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NOV  16   1989       J 


THE   WORLD'S   BEST   HYMNS 


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THE 


WORLD'S  BEST  HYMNS 

Compilcli  anti  CUustratfti 
By    LOUIS    K.    HARLOW 

WITH   AN    INTRODUCTION 

By  J.  W.  CHURCHILL 


BOSTON 
LITTLE.    BROWN,    AND    COMPANY 


Copyright,  1892, 
By  Little,  Brown,  and  Company. 


mnibersttg  Press: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge. 


INDEX   OF   FIRST   LINES. 


PAGE 

A  charge  to  keep  I  have no 

A  few  more  years  shall  roll 122 

A  mighty  fortress  is  our  Cod 146 

Abide  with  me  !  fast  falls  the  eventide 46 

All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name  ! 20 

As  pants  the  hart  for  cooling  streams 124 

Before  Jehovah's  awful  throne 25 

Beyond,  beyond  that  boundless  sea 154 

Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds 100 

Brightest  and  best  of  the  sons  of  the  morning    .     .  16 

By  cool  Siloam's  shady  rill 60 

Children  of  the  heavenly  King 79 

Christ  to  the  young  man  said  :  "  Yet  one  thing  more  "'  130 

City  of  God,  how  broad  and  far 158 

Dawn  purples  all  the  east  with  light 128 

Day  of  Wrath, — that  Day  of  Days 160 

Father,  I  know  that  all  my  life  ...          ....  156 

Fierce  was  the  wild  billow 102 

From  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies 33 

From  every  stormy  wind  that  blows 140 

From  Greenland's  icy  mountains 62 

Gently,  Lord,  oh,  gently  lead  us i 

God  is  love  !     His  mercy  brightens 26 

God  moves  in  a  mysterious  way 2 

Go  to  dark  Getlisemane 18 

V 


^xditj:  of  liv&t  linefl!. 


PAGE 


Guide  me,  O  thou  great  Jehovah  ! 58 

Hail  to  the  Lord's  Anointed     . 22 

Hark  !  hark,  my  soul !  angelic  songs  are  swelling    .  72 

Hark,  my  soul  !  it  is  the  Lord 98 

Hark,  the  glad  sound  !  the  Saviour  comes  ....  14 

Hark!  the  herald  angels  sing 104 

Hark!  what  mean  those  holy  voices 120 

Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  Almighty  ! 28 

I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say 106 

I  think,  when  I  read  that  sweet  story  of  old   .     .     .  52 

I  was  a  wandering  sheep 84 

I  would  not  live  alway,  —  live  alway  below  !    .     .     .  64 

In  heavenly  love  abiding 86 

In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory 88 

It  came  upon  the  midnight  clear 10 

Jerusalem,  the  golden  ! 108 

Jesu,  Lover  of  my  soul 4 

Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken 40 

Just  as  I  am,  without  one  plea 54 

Lead,  kindly  Light,  amid  the  encircling  gloom     .     .  67 

Lord,  dismiss  us,  with  Thy  blessing 75 

Lord  of  all  being  !  throned  afar 132 

My  faith  looks  up  to  Thee 38 

Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee 50 

O  holy  Saviour,  Friend  unseen 90 

O  Jesu,  Thou  art  standing 36 

O  Love  Divine,  that  stooped  to  share 134 

O  mother  dear,  Jerusalem  !     .........  126 

O  Paradise !  O  Paradise  .     .     .     .     o 76 

O  star  of  Truth,  down  shining 80 

vi 


JnUfir  of  first  Lincfi. 


PAGE 


Oh,  could  I  speak  the  matchless  worth in 

Oh,  worship  the  King 141 

Onward,  Christian  soldiers  ! 112 

Our  blest  Redeemer,  ere  He  breathed 114 

Praise  to  God,  immortal  praise 34 

Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me 44 

Saviour,  breathe  an  evening  blessing 93 

Shout  the  glad  tidings,  exultingly  sing 12 

Softly  now  the  light  of  day 43 

Still,  still  with  Thee,  when  purple  morning  breaketh  82 

Sun  of  my  soul,  Thou  Saviour  dear 116 

Sunlight  upon  Judaea's  hills  ! 135 

Sweet  day,  so  cool,  so  calm,  so  bright 129 

The  King  of  Love  my  shepherd  is 150 

The  morning  light  is  breaking 48 

The  shadows  of  the  evening  hours 118 

The  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war 138 

There  is  a  happy  land 68 

There  is  a  land  of  pure  delight 70 

Thou  say 'st,  "  Take  up  thy  cross  " 152 

Up  to  those  bright  and  gladsome  hills 144 

Watchman,  tell  us  of  the  night 6 

Welcome,  happy  morning! 94 

When  all  Thy  mercies,  O  my  God 30 

When  I  survey  the  wondrous  cross 92 

When  Israel,  of  the  Lord  beloved 148 

When  morning  gilds  the  skies 96 

While  shepherds  watched  their  flocks  by  night    .     .  8 

Whilst  Thee  I  seek,  protecting  Power 56 


INDEX   OF   AUTHORS. 


PAGE 

Adams,  Sarah  Flower 50 

Addison,  Joseph 3° 

Ambrose,  Saint 128 

Anatolius,  Saint 102 

Auber,  Harriet 114 

Baker,  Sir  H.  W 150 

Barbauld,  Anna   L^etitia 34 

Baring-Gould,  S 112 

Bernard  of  Clunv .126 

Bernard,   Saint 108 

Bonar,  Horatius 84,  106,  122 

BowRiNG,  Sir  John 6,  26,  88 

Caswall 96 

Cawood,  John 120 

Cennick,  John 79 

Conder,  Eustace i54 

Cowper,  William 2,  98 

Doane,  George  Washington  ....      43 

ix 


3nUe)c  of  Sitttborfi. 


PAGE 

Doddridge,  Philip 14 

Edmeston,  James 93 

Elliott,  Charlotte 54,  90 

Faber,  P^rederick  William 72,  76 

Fawcett,  John 100 

Fortunatus,  Venantius 94 

Grant,  Sir  Robert 141 

Hastings,  Thomas i 

Heber,  Reginald 16,  28,  60,  62,  139 

Herbert,  George 129 

Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell 132,  134 

How,  William  Walsham 36 

Johnson,  Samuel 158 

Keble,  J 116 

Longfellow,  Henry  Wads  worth 130 

Luke,  Jemima  Thompson 52 

Luther,  Martin 146 

Lyte,  Henry  Francis 4O)  46 

Medley,  Samuel in 

Montgomery,  James 18,  22 

Muhlenberg,  William  Augustus     .    .    .    .     12.  64 

Newman,  John  Henry 67 

Palgrave,  F.  T 152 

Palmer,  Ray 38 

Perronet,  Edward 20 

X 


'^ntitj:  of  Slutborfi. 


PAGE 

Proctor,  Adelaide ii8 

Savage,  Minot  J So 

Scott,  Sir  Walter 148 

Sears,  Edmund  H 10 

Smith,  Samuel  Franxis 48 

Stowe,  Mrs.  H.  B 82 

Stowell,  Hugh 138 

Tate  and  Brady 124 

Tate,  Nahum 8 

ToPLADY,  Augustus  iMontague 44 

Vaughan,  Henry 144 

Waring,  Anna  L 86,  136 

Watts,  Isaac 25,  33,  70,  92 

Wesley,  Charles 4,  104,  no 

Whittier,  John  G 135 

Williams,  Helen  Maria 56 

Williams,  William 58 

Winthrop,  Robert  C 160 

Young,  Andrew 68 


Note.  —  Hymns  by  Longfellow,  Whittier,  Holmes,  and  Mrs.  Stowe 
are  included  by  permission  of  Messrs.  Houghton,  Mifflin,  and 
Company. 


INTRODUCTION. 


IT  is  a  pleasant  office  to  introduce  to  the 
thoughtful  portion  of  the  reading  public 
the  selections  which  the  taste  and  enthusiasm 
of  my  friend,  Mr.  Louis  K.  Harlow,  have  pre- 
pared for  its  benefit  and  enjoyment.  His  con- 
genial task  has  been  guided  by  the  simple, 
practical  aim  of  bringing  together  in  a  con- 
venient and  an  attractive  form  the  choicest 
specimens  of  sacred  poetry  that  have  gradually 
grown  up  in  the  soil  of  religious  sentiment. 
This  compilation  is  not  a  hymn-book,  but  a 
book  of  hymns.  Neither  is  it  an  abounding 
treasure-house  of  religious  verse.  Exquisite 
collections  of  sacred  song  have  already  been 
made  for  poetry's  sake,  with  the  avowed  pur- 
pose of  admitting  no  poetical  composition, 
however  good  its  intention,  unless  it  has  been 


S^ntroUuction. 


touched  with  the  power  and  magic  of  high 
poetic  art.  Still  other  religious  poems  have 
been  gathered,  with  the  paramount  aim  of  direct 
usefulness  in  ministering  to  the  nurture  and  sol- 
ace of  the  spiritual  life.  This  book  enters  into 
no  rivalry  with  such  incomparable  volumes  of 
religious  poetry,  each  one  a  noble  library  in 
itself.  The  present  editor's  aim  and  scope  pur- 
posely have  been  confined  to  certain  special 
limits. 

The  leading  principle  of  choice  which  has 
been  followed  is  the  selection  of  the  best  Eng- 
lish lyrical  religious  poetry  that  has  been  im- 
mediately associated  with  sacred  music,  and 
hallowed  by  long  and  constant  use  in  the  ser- 
vice of  song  in  the  home  and  the  church.  They 
are  lyrics  that  have  become  classic  as  hymns, 
rather  than  through  their  literary  excellence  of 
poetic  form.  In  the  perusal  of  most  of  them 
the  mental  ear  will  catch  the  undertone  of  the 
sacred  melodies  to  which  they  have  usually 
been  sung. 


S^ntroUuctiom 


Nor  has  the  taste  and  discernment  of  the 
editor  failed  to  detect  the  enhancing  worth  of 
poetical  merit  in  the  expression  of  thought  and 
sentiment  whose  chief  excellence  lies  in  its 
spiritual  value.  A  hymn  as  a  mode  of  poetry 
has  the  object  of  all  poetic  art,  —  the  sponta- 
neous expression  of  emotion  on  the  part  of  the 
writer,  and  the  excitement  of  corresponding 
emotion  in  the  heart  of  the  reader  or  singer. 
It  is  at  once  the  fervid,  sincere  transcript  and 
impression  of  some  phase  of  spiritual  life  cast 
in  a  metrical  mould.  The  spiritual  emotions 
of  Penitence  and  Praise,  of  Faith,  Hope,  Love, 
and  aspirations  after  Perfection,  are  all  the 
more  inspiring,  penetrating,  and  influential, 
when  embodied  in  choice,  melodious  diction 
and   beautiful   form. 

A  Christian  hymn  has  its  peculiar  canons 
of  excellence.  It  is  either  written  or  appro- 
priated for  popular  use ;  it  is  chiefly  em- 
ployed as  an  integral  part  of  public  worship ; 
the  vast  majority  of  those  who  sing  it  are  plain 


!Jiitrotiuctiom 


people.  Hence,  our  best  hymns,  while  fennd 
in  spirit,  are  simple  in  diction  and  chastened  in 
imagery.  With  its  confessedly  practical  aim  of 
edifying  the  inner  life,  the  ideal  hymn  is  saved 
from  the  peril  of  didactics  —  the  sure  death  of 
poetry — by  lines  so  deftly  wrought  that  they 
quickly  catch  the  ear  of  the  little  child,  and 
linger  in  the  memory  of  the  aged  when  almost 
every  other  form  of  language  is  forgotten.  A 
hymn  as  a  question  of  poetic  art  is  a  matter 
of  execution.  In  structure  and  movement  it 
has  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and  an  end.  "  In 
a  hymn,"  remarks  that  skilful  hymn-writer, 
James  Montgomery,  "  there  should  be  a  mani- 
fest gradation  in  the  thoughts,  and  their  mutual 
dependence  should  be  so  perceptible  that  they 
could  not  be  transposed  without  injuring  the 
unity  of  the  piece ;  every  line  carrying  forward 
the  connection,  and  every  stanza  adding  a  well- 
proportioned  limb  to  a  symmetrical  body.  The 
reader  should  know  when  the  strain  is  complete, 
and  be  satisfied  as  at  the  close  of  an  air  of  music." 


^fntrotjttction. 


This  high  ideal  of  what  a  hymn  should  be 
seems  more  or  less  consciously  to  have  been 
borne  in  mind  in  the  choice  of  the  selections 
before  us ;  nearly  every  hymn  successfully 
stands  the  test.  Many  of  them  are  master- 
pieces of  lyric  poetry,  which  all  English-speak- 
ing people  have  agreed  in  admiring.  They 
have  been  written  by  acknowledged  masters  of 
song,  and  have  secured  a  wide  and  enduring 
fame. 

The  restricted  rule  of  choice  which  influenced 
the  compiler  in  his  selection  has,  no  doubt,  been 
modified  in  some  instances  by  his  personal  pref- 
erences. He  may  be  assured  that  those  hymns 
which  have  charmed  and  moved  an  intelligent 
lover  of  sacred  poetry  will  probably  delight 
others.  And  yet  these  selections  are  remark- 
ably free  from  mere  individual  predilection. 
They  are  representative  and  catholic.  They 
are  not  chosen  for  any  one  class  of  Chris- 
tians, but  for  our  common  Christian  life.  The 
balance   of  personal   judgment   has   been  kept 


^TntroUttction. 


most  true;  it  would  be  difficult  to  infer  a 
system  of  religious  opinions  from  the  poems 
presented. 

Obviously,  no  two  persons  would  make  pre- 
cisely the  same  selection  from  such  a  wide 
range  of  choice  in  the  almost  limitless  field  of 
religious  poetry.  Many  readers  will  doubtless 
expect  to  find  some  familiar  hymn,  and  feel 
disappointed  at  its  absence.  The  omission 
can  sometimes  be  accounted  for  by  the  exer- 
cise of  the  editor's  critical  judgment.  The 
"  Fountain  filled  with  blood,  drawn  from  Em- 
manuel's veins,"  is  a  favorite  hymn,  found  in 
nearly  every  hymn-book  in  the  churches.  Sur-. 
prise  will  perhaps  be  expressed  by  some  at  the 
omission  of  Cowper's  famous  hymn  from  this 
collection.  Others  will  commend  its  exclusion 
because  of  its  imagery,  although  to  the  gentle 
poet  of  Olney  it  was  a  vivid  and  reverent 
description  of  the  chief  article  of  his  faith. 
Let  it  be  noted,  however,  that  other  hymns  are 
found  here  that  acknowledge  and  interpret  the 


^TntroUuction. 


same  great  Christian  fact.  Other  omissions  can 
very  Hkely  be  attributed  to  the  necessary  Hmi- 
tations  in  the  number  of  hymns,  dependent  to 
a  considerable  degree  upon  the  predetermined 
size  and  style  of  the  book. 

A  noteworthy  excellence  is  the  conscientious 
care  which  has  been  taken  to  conform  the  text 
to  the  latest  accredited  sources  of  authority  in 
hymnology. 

The  original  illustrations  from  the  brush  of 
Mr.  Harlow  are  a  unique  feature  of  this  volume. 
His  widely  recognized  worth  as  a  landscape 
artist  in  water-colors  will  attract  an  interested 
attention  to  the  sketches  with  which  he  has  en- 
riched the  text.  Many  of  them  are  sympathetic 
interpretations  of  the  tone  of  feeling  found  at 
the  heart  of  the  accompanying  poems.  Some 
of  them  are  expressions  of  moods  of  feeling 
induced  by  the  sentiment  of  the  hymns,  and 
suggestive  of  certain  aspects  of  external  nature. 
Others  are  direct  studies  from  nature,  that  have 
had  for  the  artist  a  poetic  value  in  the  spirit  of 

the  visible  scenes. 

xix 


Jntrotittction. 


It  is  believed  that  the  hymns  collected  in 
this  little  volume,  representing  ages  of  inspi- 
ration and  devotion,  will  conspire  with  all  that 
is  true  and  beautiful  and  good  in  our  com- 
mon human  nature,  in  helping,  according  to 
their  measure,  to  make  men  wiser,  purer,  and 
happier. 

J.   W.    CHURCHILL. 


Andover  Theological  Seminary, 
October  25,   1892. 


oBcntlp,  Horti. 


ENTLY,  Lord,  oh,  gently  lead  us, 
Pilgrims  in  this  vale  of  tears, 
Through  the  trials  yet  decreed  us, 
Till  our  last  great  change  appears. 
When  temptation's  darts  assail  us. 
When  in  devious  paths  we  stray, 
Let  Thy  goodness  never  fail  us, 
Lead  us  in  Thy  perfect  way. 

In  the  hour  of  pain  and  anguish, 

In  the  hour  when  death  draws  near, 
Suffer  not  our  hearts  to  languish. 

Suffer  not  our  souls  to  fear ; 
And,  when  mortal  life  is  ended, 

Bid  us  in  Thine  arms  to  rest, 
Till,  by  angel  bands  attended, 

We  awake  among  the  blest. 

Thomas  Hastings. 


y 


3li0{)t  ^l^ining  out  of  2Datfene^^, 


OD  moves  in  a  mysterious  way, 
His  wonders  to  perform  ; 
He  plants  His  footsteps  in  the  sea, 
And  rides  upon  the  storm. 


Deep  in  unfathomable  mines 

Of  never-failing  skill 
He  treasures  up  His  bright  designs, 

And  works  His  sovereign  will. 

Ye  fearful  saints,  fresh  courage  take ; 

The  clouds  ye  so  much  dread 
Are  big  with  mercy,  and  shall  break 

In  blessings  on  your  head. 

Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense, 
But  trust  Him  for  His  grace  ; 

Behind  a  frowning  Providence 
He  hides  a  smiling  face. 

2 


iiffbt  fi^ininff  out  of  ^arfencss. 


His  purposes  will  ripen  fast, 

Unfolding  every  hour ; 
The  bud  may  have  a  bitter  taste, 

But  sweet  will  be  the  flower. 

Blind  unbelief  is  sure  to  err, 
And  scan  His  work  in  vain ; 

God  is  His  own  interpreter, 
And  He  will  make  it  plain. 

William  Cowper. 


2Fe^u,  Jtoijer  of  mp  ^onh 


ESU,  Lover  of  my  soul, 

Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly, 
While  the  nearer  waters  roll, 
While  the  tempest  still  is  high  ! 
Hide  me,  O  my  Saviour,  hide, 
Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past, 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide  ; 
Oh,  receive  my  soul  at  last ! 

Other  refuge  have  I  none  ; 

Hangs  my  helpless  soul  on  Thee  ; 
Leave,  ah  !  leave  me  not  alone. 

Still  support  and  comfort  me  ! 
All  my  trust  on  Thee  is  stayed, 

All  my  help  from  Thee  I  bring ; 
Cover  my  defenceless  head 

With  the  shadow  of  Thy  wing ! 
4 


^tm,  lotjer  of  mp  ^oul. 


Wilt  Thou  not  regard  my  call? 

Wilt  Thou  not  accept  my  prayer? 
Lo  !  I  sink,  I  faint,  I  fall ! 

Lo  !  on  thee  I  cast  my  care  ! 
Reach  me  out  Thy  gracious  hand ! 

While  I  of  Thy  strength  receive, 
Hoping  against  hope  I  stand, 

Dying,  and  behold  I  live ! 

Thou,  O  Christ,  art  all  I  want ; 

More  than  all  in  Thee  I  find  ; 
Raise  the  fallen,  cheer  the  faint, 

Heal  the  sick,  and  lead  the  blind  ! 
Just  and  holy  is  Thy  Name, 

I  am  all  unrighteousness  ; 
False  and  full  of  sin  I  am. 

Thou  art  full  of  truth  and  grace. 

Plenteous  grace  with  Thee  is  found,  - 

Grace  to  cover  all  my  sin  ; 
Let  the  healing  streams  abound  ; 

Make  and  keep  me  pure  within ! 
Thou  of  Life  the  Fountain  art, 

Freely  let  me  take  of  thee  ! 
Spring  Thou  up  within  my  heart  I 

Rise  to  all  eternity  ! 

5  Charles  Wesley. 


I©atcl)man,  tell  u^  of  tt^t  |^isl)t 

^SIATCHMAN,  tell  us  of  the  night, 
f  ^^hI         What  its  signs  of  promise  are  ! 
[^g^     Traveller,  o'er  yon  mountain's  height 
See  that  glory-beaming  star  I 
Watchman,  does  its  beauteous  ray 

Aught  of  hope  or  joy  foretell? 
Traveller,  yes  ;  it  brings  the  day, 
Promised  day  of  Israel. 

Watchman,  tell  us  of  the  night,  — 

Higher  yet  that  star  ascends  ! 
Traveller,  blessedness  and  light, 

Peace  and  truth,  its  course  portends. 
Watchman,  will  its  beams  alone 

Gild  the  spot  that  gave  them  birth? 
Traveller,  ages  are  its  own, — 

See,  it  bursts  o'er  all  the  earth  1 
6 


(LSlatcbman,  trll  us  of  tbe  l*)isi)t. 

Watchman,  tell  us  of  the  night, 

For  the  morning  seems  to  dawn. 
Traveller,  darkness  takes  its  flight, 

Doubt  and  terror  are  withdrawn. 
Watchman,  let  thy  wanderings  cease  ; 

Hie  thee  to  thy  quiet  home. 
Traveller,  lo  !  the  Prince  of  Peace, 

Lo  !  the  Son  of  God,  is  come. 

Sir  John  Bowring. 


IHILE  shepherds  watched  their  flocks  by  night, 

All  seated  on  the  ground, 
I     The  angel  of  the  Lord  came  down, 

And  glory  shone  around. 

"  Fear  not,''  said  he  (for  mighty  dread 
Had  seized  their  troubled  mind)  ; 

"  Glad  tidings  of  great  joy  I  bring 
To  you  and  all  mankind. 

"  To  you,  in  David's  town,  this  day 

Is  born  of  David's  line 
The  Saviour  who  is  Christ  the  Lord ; 

And  this  shall  be  the  sign  : 

"  The  heavenly  Babe  you  there  shall  find 

To  human  view  displayed, 
All  meanly  wrapt  in  swathing  bands, 

And  in  a  manger  laid." 
S 


Thus  spake  the  seraph  ;  and  forthwith 

Appeared  a  shining  throng 
Of  angels,  praising  God.  and  thus 

Addressed  their  joyful  song  : 

"  All  glory  be  to  God  on  high, 

And  to  the  earth  be  peace  ; 
Good  will  henceforth  from  heaven  to  men 

Begin,  and  never  cease  !  " 

Nahum  Tate. 


3^t  came  ujpon  tl^e  jet^iDnigljt  Clear. 

T  came  upon  the  midnight  clear, 
That  glorious  song  of  old, 
From  angels  bending  near  the  earth 
To  touch  their  harps  of  gold  ; 
"  Peace  on  the  earth,  good  will  to  men 

From  Heaven's  all-gracious  King !  " 
The  world  in  solemn  stillness  lay 

To  hear  the  angels  sing- 
Still  through  the  cloven  skies  they  come, 

With  peaceful  wings  unfurled  ; 
And  still  their  heavenly  music  floats 

O'er  all  the  weary  world  : 
Above  its  sad  and  lowly  plains 

They  bend  on  hovering  wing, 
And  ever  o'er  its  Babel  sounds 

The  blessed  angels  sing. 


I    ... 


/ 


3rt  tame  upon  t()c  ;PliUni3:l)t  Clean 


But  with  the  woes  of  sin  and  strife 

The  world  has  suffered  long ; 
Beneath  the  angel  strain  have  rolled 

Two  thousand  years  of  wrong  ; 
And  man,  at  war  with  man,  hears  not 

The  love- song  which  they  bring. 
Oh,  iiush  the  noise,  ye  men  of  strife, 

And  hear  the  angels  sing ! 

And  ye,  beneath  life's  crushing  load 

Whose  forms  are  bending  low, 
Who  toil  along  the  climbing  way 

With  painful  steps  and  slow, 
Look  now  !  for  glad  and  golden  hours 

Come  swiftly  on  the  wing ; 
Oh,  rest  beside  the  weary  road, 

And  hear  the  angels  sing ! 

For,  lo  !  the  days  are  hastening  on, 

By  prophet  bards  foretold, 
When  with  the  ever-circling  years 

Comes  round  the  age  of  gold  : 
When  peace  shall  over  all  the  earth 

Its  ancient  splendors  fling, 
And  the  whole  world  send  back  the  song 

Which  now  the  angels  sing. 

fi  Edmund  H.  Sears. 


HOUT  the  glad  tidings,  exultingly  sing ; 
Jerusalem  triumphs,  Messiah  is  King ! 


Sion,  the  marvellous  story  be  telling, 

The  Son  of  the  Highest,  how  lowly  his  birth ! 
The  brightest  archangel  in  glory  excelling, 

He  stoops  to  redeem  thee,  he  reigns  upon  earth. 
Shout  the  glad  tidings,  exultingly  sing ; 
Jerusalem  triumphs,  Messiah  is  King ! 

Tell  how  He  cometh  ;  from  nation  to  nation, 

The  heart-cheering  news  let  the  earth  echo  round 
How  free  to  the  faithful  He  offers  salvation, 
How  His  people  with  joy  everlasting  are  crowned. 
Shout  the  glad  tidings,  exultingly  sing  ; 
Jerusalem  triumphs,  Messiah  is  King! 


^|)aut  tbc  (01ati  CiUinsfi. 


Mortals,  your  homage  be  gratefully  bringing, 

And  sweet  let  the  gladsome  hosanna  arise ; 
Ye  angels,  the  full  hallelujah  be  singing ; 

One  chorus  resound  through  the  earth  and  the  skies. 
Shout  the  glad  tidings,  exultingly  sing ; 
Jerusalem  triumphs,  Messiah  is  King ! 

William  Augustus  Muhlenberg. 


13 


Harft,  tt^t  oSIati  cf^ounti ! 

ARK,  the  glad  sound  !  the  Saviour  comes, 
The  Saviour  promised  long  ; 
Let  every  heart  prepare  a  throne, 
And  every  voice  a  song  ! 

On  Him  the  Spirit,  largely  poured, 

Exerts  his  sacred  fire  ; 
Wisdom  and  might,  and  zeal  and  love, 

His  holy  breast  inspire. 

He  comes,  the  prisoners  to  release 

In  Satan's  bondage  held  ; 
The  gates  of  brass  before  Him  burst. 

The  iron  fetters  yield. 

He  comes,  from  thickest  films  of  vice 

To  clear  the  mental  ray, 
And  on  the  eyeballs  of  the  blind 

To  pour  celestial  day. 
14 


-V 


Mt 


t)arfe,  tl)c  0M  :^ounU  ! 


He  comes,  the  broken  heart  to  bind, 

The  bleeding  soul  to  cure, 
And  with  the  treasures  of  His  grace 

To  enrich  the  humble  poor. 

His  silver  trumpets  publish  loud 

The  jubilee  of  the  Lord  ; 
Our  debts  are  all  remitted  now, 

Our  heritage  restored. 

Our  glad  hosannas,  Prince  of  Peace, 
Thy  welcome  shall  proclaim, 

And  heaven's  eternal  arches  ring 
With  thy  beloved  name. 

Philip  Doddridge. 


'5 


SIRIGHTEST  and  best  of  the  sons  of  the  morning, 
^1  Dawn  on  our  darkness,  and  lend  us  Thine  aid  1 
al     Star  of  the  East,  the  horizon  adorning, 

Guide  where  our  infant  Redeemer  is  laid  ! 

Cold  on  His  cradle  the  dewdrops  are  shining, 
Low  lies  his  head  with  the  beasts  of  the  stall ; 

Angels  adore  Him,  in  slumber  reclining, — 
Maker,  and  Monarch,  and  Saviour  of  all. 

Say,  shall  we  yield  Him,  in  cosdy  devotion, 
Odors  of  Edom,  and  offerings  divine. 

Gems  of  the  mountain,  and  pearls  of  the  ocean, 
Myrrh  from  the  forest,  or  gold  from  the  mine  ? 

Vainly  we  offer  each  ample  oblation, 

Vainly  with  gifts  would  His  favor  secure  ; 

Richer  by  far  is  the  heart's  adoration, 

Dearer  to  God  are  the  prayers  of  the  poor. 
i6 


J) 


€pipl)anj). 


Brightest  and  best  of  the  sons  of  the  morning, 
Dawn  on  our  darkness,  and  lend  us  Thine  aid ! 

Star  of  the  East,  the  horizon  adorning, 
Guide  where  our  infant  Redeemer  is  laid  ! 


Reginald  Heber. 


<jBetl)^emanc» 


O  to  dark  Gethsemane, 

Ye  that  feel  the  tempter's  power  ; 
Your  Redeemer's  conflict  see, 

Watch  with  Him  one  bitter  hour ; 
Turn  not  from  His  griefs  away, 
Learn  of  Jesus  Christ  to  pray  ! 

Follow  to  the  judgment  hall. 
View  the  Lord  of  life  arraigned ; 

O  the  wormwood  and  the  gall ! 
O  the  pangs  his  soul  sustained ! 

Shun  not  suffering,  shame,  or  loss,  — 

Learn  of  Him  to  bear  the  cross  ! 

Calvary's  mournful  mountain  climb ; 

There,  adoring  at  His  feet, 
Mark  that  miracle  of  time, 

God's  own  sacrifice  complete  I 
"  It  is  finished  !  "  —  hear  the  cry  ; 
Learn  of  Jesus  Christ  to  die ! 
i8 


(0etl)6cmane. 


Early  hasten  to  the  tomb 

Where  they  laid  His  breathless  clay ; 
All  is  solitude  and  gloom  ; 

Who  hath  taken  Him  away  ? 
Christ  is  risen  !     He  meets  our  eyes  ! 
Saviour,  teach  us  so  to  rise ! 

James  Montgomery. 


19 


Cotonation, 

LL  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name ! 
Let  angels  prostrate  fall ; 
Bring  forth  the  royal  diadem, 
To  crown  Him  Lord  of  all ! 


Let  high-born  seraphs  tune  the  lyre, 

And,  as  they  tune  it,  fall 
Before  His  face  who  tunes  their  choir, 

And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all ! 

Crown  Him,  ye  morning  stars  of  light, 
Who  fixed  this  floating  ball ; 

Now  hail  the  Strength  of  Israel's  might, 
And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all ! 

Crown  Him,  ye  martyrs  of  your  God, 

Who  from  His  altar  call ; 
Extol  the  stem  of  Jesse's  rod. 

And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all ! 

20 


Coronation. 


Ye  seed  of  Israel's  chosen  race, 

Ye  ransomed  of  the  fall, 
Hail  Him  who  saves  you  by  His  grace, 

And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all  ! 

Hail  Him,  ye  heirs  of  David's  line, 

Whom  David  Lord  did  call, 
The  God  incarnate,  Man  divine, 

And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all  ! 

Sinners,  whose  love  can  ne'er  forget 

The  wormwood  and  the  gall. 
Go  spread  your  trophies  at  His  feet. 

And  crown  Him  Lord  of  all ! 

Let  every  tribe  and  every  tongue 

That  bound  creations  call 
Now  shout,  in  universal  song. 

The  crowned  Lord  of  all  ! 

Edward  Perron et. 


I^ail  to  tl)c  Eorti'^  5Cnomteti. 


AIL  to  the  Lord's  Anointed, 
Great  David's  greater  Son ! 
Hail,  in  the  time  appointed, 
His  reign  on  earth  begun  ! 
He  comes  to  break  oppression, 

To  let  the  captive  free, 
To  take  away  transgression, 
And  rule  in  equity. 

He  comes  with  succor  speedy 

To  those  who  suffer  wrong ; 
To  help  the  poor  and  needy, 

And  bid  the  weak  be  strong ; 
To  give  them  songs  for  sighing, 

Their  darkness  turn  to  light. 
Whose  souls,  condemned  and  dying, 

Were  precious  in  His  sight. 


()ail  to  tl)c  lord's;  ^nointeli. 

He  shall  come  down  like  showers 

Upon  the  fruitful  earth, 
And  love,  joy,  hope,  like  flowers, 

Spring  in  His  path  to  birth. 
Before  Him,  on  the  mountains, 

Shall  Peace,  the  herald,  go, 
And  righteousness,  in  fountains, 

From  hill  to  valley  flow. 

Arabia's  desert-ranger 

To  Him  shall  bow  the  knee  ; 
The  Ethiopian  stranger 

His  glory  come  to  see  ; 
With  offerings  of  devotion 

Ships  from  the  isles  shall  meet, 
To  pour  the  wealth  of  ocean 

In  tribute  at  His  feet. 

Kings  shall  fall  down  before  Him, 

And  golden  incense  bring ; 
All  nations  shall  adore  Him, 

His  praise  all  people  sing ; 
For  He  shall  have  dominion 

O'er  river,  sea,  and  shore, 
Far  as  the  eagle's  pinion 

Or  dove's  light  wing  can  soar. 
23 


|)aU  to  tl)e  lDrU*s!  ^InointeU. 


For  Him  shall  prayer  unceasing 

And  daily  vows  ascend, 
His  kingdom  still  increasing, 

A  kingdom  widiout  end  ; 
The  mountain  dews  shall  nourish 

A  seed,  in  weakness  sown, 
Whose  fruit  shall  spread  and  flourish, 

And  shake  like  Lebanon. 

O'er  every  foe  victorious 

He  on  His  throne  shall  rest, 
From  age  to  age  more  glorious, 

All-blessing-  and  all-blest ; 
The  tide  of  time  shall  never 

His  covenant  remove ; 
His  Name  shall  stand  forever, — 

That  Name  to  us  is  Love. 

James  Montgomery. 


24 


2&cfote  3cf)Dbaf)*^  atDful  €l)tone. 


EFORE  Jehovah's  awful  throne, 

Ye  nations,  bow  with  sacred  joy  ; 
Know  that  the  Lord  is  God  alone, 
He  can  create,  and  He  destroy. 


His  sovereign  power,  without  our  aid, 
Make  us  of  clay,  and  formed  us  men ; 

And  when  Hke  wandering  sheep  we  strayed, 
He  brought  us  to  His  fold  again. 

We  '11  crowd  I'hy  gates  with  thankful  songs, 
High  as  the  heavens  our  voices  raise  ; 

And  earth,  with  her  ten  thousand  tongues, 
Shall  fill  Thy  courts  with  sounding  praise. 

Wide  as  the  world  is  Thy  command, 

Vast  as  eternity  Thy  love  ; 
Firm  as  a  rock  Thy  truth  must  stand, 

When  rolling  years  shall  cease  to  move. 

Isaac  Watts. 
(Varied  by  Charles  Wesley.) 

25 


OD  is  love  !     His  mercy  brightens 
All  the  path  in  which  we  rove  ; 
Bliss  He  wakes,  and  woe  He  lightens 
God  is  wisdom  !  God  is  love  ! 


Chance  and  change  are  busy  ever ; 

Man  decays,  and  ages  move  ; 
But  His  mercy  waneth  never  : 

God  is  wisdom  !  God  is  love  ! 

E'en  the  hour  that  darkest  seemeth 
Will  His  changeless  goodness  prove  ; 

From  the  gloom  His  brightness  streameth 
God  is  wisdom  !  God  is  love ! 

He  with  earthly  cares  entwineth 
Hope  and  comfort  from  above  ; 

Everywhere  His  glory  shineth  : 
God  is  wisdom  !  God  is  love  ! 
26 


(0OU  is  lotje. 


God  is  love  !     His  mercy  brightens 
All  the  path  in  which  we  rove  ; 

Bliss  He  wakes,  and  woe  He  lightens  : 
God  is  wisdom  !  God  is  love  ! 

Sir  John  Bowring. 


27 


€f)e  i^olp  Crinitp. 

OLY,  holy,  holy,  Lord  God  Almighty  ! 

Early  in  the  morning  our  songs  shall  rise  to 
Thee ; 
Holy,  holy,  holy  !  Merciful  and  Mighty  ! 
God  in  Three  Persons,  blessed  Trinity  ! 


Holy,  holy,  holy  !  all  the  saints  adore  Thee, 

Casting  down  their  golden  crowns  around  the  glassy 
sea, 

Cherubim  and  seraphim  falling  down  before  Thee, 
Which  wert,  and  art,  and  evermore  shalt  be. 

Holy,  holy,  holy  !  though  the  darkness  hide  Thee, 
Though  the  eye  of  sinful   man  Thy  glory  may  not 
see, 
Only  Thou  art  holy,  there  is  none  beside  Thee, 
Perfect  in  power,  in  love,  and  purity. 
28 


«>r«^W 


i« 


CI)c  ^olp  Crinitp, 


Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  God  Almighty ! 

All  Thy  works  shall  praise  Thy  Name  in  earth  and 
sky  and  sea ; 
Holy,  holy,  holy  !  Merciful  and  Mighty  ! 
God  in  Three  Persons,  blessed  Trinity  ! 

Reginald  Heber. 


29 


Wt^m  all  tl)p  a^ercie^,  <&  mp  45oh, 


I  HEN  all  Thy  mercies,  O  my  God, 

My  rising  soul  surveys, 
I     Transported  with  the  view,  I  'm  lost 

In  wonder,  love,  and  praise. 


Oh,  how  shall  words  with  equal  warmth 

The  gratitude  declare 
That  glows  within  my  ravished  heart  ? 

But  Thou  canst  read  it  there. 

Thy  providence  my  life  sustained, 
And  all  my  wants  redressed, 

When  in  the  silent  womb  I  lay. 
And  hung  upon  the  breast. 

To  all  my  weak  complaints  and  cries 

Thy  mercy  lent  an  ear, 
Ere  yet  my  feeble  thoughts  had  learnt 

To  form  themselves  in  prayer. 
30 


% 


J 


h-i 


U 


^' 


/ 


^ 


(iM\)tn  all  Cbp  iHercies,  ©  mp  (?5oli. 

Unnumbered  comforts  on  my  soul 

Thy  tender  care  bestowed, 
Before  my  infant  heart  conceived 

From  whence  these  comforts  flowed. 

When  in  the  shppery  paths  of  youth 

With  heedless  steps  I  ran, 
Thine  arm,  unseen,  conveyed  me  safe, 

And  led  me  up  to  man. 

Through  hidden  dangers,  toils,  and  death 

It  gently  cleared  my  way, 
And  through  the  pleasing  snares  of  vice, 

More  to  be  feared  than  they. 

When  worn  with  sickness,  oft  hast  Thou 
With  health  renewed  my  face, 

And  when  in  sins  and  sorrows  sunk. 
Revived  my  soul  with  grace. 

Thy  bounteous  hand  with  worldly  bliss 

Has  made  my  cup  run  o'er, 
And  in  a  kind  and  faithful  friend 

Has  doubled  all  my  store. 


mi\m  all  Cl)p  JHcrctcfii,  O  mp  (0oT3. 

Ten  thousand  thousand  precious  gifts 

My  daily  thanks  employ, 
Nor  is  the  least  a  cheerful  heart, 

That  tastes  those  gifts  with  joy. 

Through  every  period  of  my  life 

Thy  goodness  I  '11  pursue, 
And  after  death,  in  distant  worlds, 

The  glorious  theme  renew. 

When  Nature  fails,  and  day  and  night 
Divide  Thy  works  no  more, 

My  ever  grateful  heart,  O  Lord, 
Thy  mercy  shall  adore. 

Through  all  eternity  to  Thee 

A  joyful  song  I  '11  raise  ; 
But  oh  !  eternity  's  too  short 

To  utter  all  Thy  praise  ! 

Joseph  Addison. 


32 


Jj^Mm  CXVII. 

ROM  all  that  dwell  below  the  skies 
Let  the  Creator's  praise  arise  ; 
Let  the  Redeemer's  Name  be  sung 
Through  every  land,  by  every  tongue ! 

Eternal  are  Thy  mercies,  Lord  ; 

Eternal  truth  attends  Thy  word  ; 

Thy  praise  shall  sound  from  shore  to  shore, 

Till  suns  shall  rise  and  set  no  more. 

Isaac  Watts. 


33 


^rai^e  to  oBoD, 

RAISE  to  God,  immortal  praise, 
For  the  love  that  crowns  our  days  ! 
Bounteous  Source  of  every  joy, 
Let  Thy  praise  our  tongues  employ. 

For  the  blessings  of  the  field, 
For  the  stores  the  gardens  yield, 
For  the  vine's  exalted  juice, 
For  the  generous  olive's  use,  — 

Flocks  that  whiten  all  the  plain, 
Yellow  sheaves  of  ripened  grain. 
Clouds  that  drop  their  fattening  dews, 
Suns  that  temperate  warmth  diffuse,  — 

All  that  Spring  with  bounteous  hand 
Scatters  o'er  the  smiling  land, 
All  that  liberal  Autumn  pours 
From  her  rich,  o'erflowing  stores,  — 
34 


\^  V' 


\ 


^ 


7 


/: 


,^ 


Pratfiie  to  (0oli. 


These  to  Thee,  my  God,  we  owe, 
Source  whence  all  our  blessings  flow, 
And  for  these  my  soul  shall  raise 
Grateful  vows  and  solemn  praise. 

Yet,  should  rising  whirlwinds  tear 
From  its  stem  the  ripening  ear ; 
Should  the  fig-tree's  blasted  shoot 
Drop  her  green,  untimely  fruit ; 

Should  the  vine  put  forth  no  more, 
Nor  the  olive  yield  her  store  ; 
Though  the  sickening  flocks  should  fall, 
And  the  herds  desert  the  stall ; 

Should  Thine  altered  hand  restrain 
The  early  and  the  latter  rain, 
Blast  each  opening  bud  of  joy, 
And  the  rising  year  destroy,  — 

Yet  to  Thee  my  soul  should  raise 
Grateful  vows  and  solemn  praise  ; 
And,  when  every  blessing  's  flown, 
Love  Thee  for  Thyself  alone  ! 

Anna  L.^ixiTiA  Barbauld 
35 


25el)Dlti,  3^  ^tanti  at  ti^t  SDoor  anti  kmth. 


JESU,  Thou  art  standing 

Outside  the  fast-closed  door, 
In  lowly  patience  waiting 
To  pass  the  threshold  o'er. 
We  bear  the  name  of  Christians, 

His  name  and  sign  we  bear ; 
O  shame,  thrice  shame  upon  us, 
To  keep  Him  standing  there  ! 

O  Jesu,  thou  art  knocking. 

And  lo  !  that  hand  is  scarred, 
And  thorns  Thy  brow  encircle, 

And  tears  Thy  face  have  marred. 
O  love  that  passeth  knowledge, 

So  patiently  to  wait  ! 
O  sin  that  hath  no  equal, 

So  fast  to  bar  the  gate  ! 
36 


^fbolU,  3F  fitanU  at  tl)e  ^oor  anH  kmtk, 

O  Jesu,  Thou  art  pleading, 

In  accents  meek  and  low, 
"  I  died  for  you,  my  children, 

And  will  ye  treat  me  s*-  ?  " 
O  Lord,  with  shame  and  sorrow 

We  open  now  the  door  ! 
Dear  Saviour,  enter,  enter, 

And  leave  us  nevermore  ! 

William  Walsham  How. 


37 


£t^p  faitt)  iooft^  up  to  €f)ee. 


Y  faith  looks  up  to  Thee, 
Thou  Lamb  of  Calvary, 
Saviour  divine ! 
Now  hear  me  while  I  pray : 
Take  all  my  guilt  away ; 
Oh,  let  me  from  this  day 
Be  wholly  thine ! 


May  Thy  rich  grace  impart 
Strength  to  my  fainting  heart. 

My  zeal  inspire ! 
As  Thou  hast  died  for  me, 
Oh,  may  my  love  to  Thee 
Pure,  warm,  and  changeless  be, 

A  living  fire ! 


While  life's  dark  maze  I  tread, 
And  griefs  around  me  spread. 
Be  Thou  my  Guide  ! 
3S 


^% 


'XftaSSQk* 


i^v  JFaitI)  loofefii  up  to  C|)cc, 


Bid  darkness  turn  to  day, 
Wipe  sorrow's  tears  away, 
Nor  let  me  ever  stray 
From  Thee  aside. 

When  ends  life's  transient  dream, 
When  death's  cold,  sullen  stream 

Shall  o'er  me  roll. 
Blest  Saviour,  then  in  love 
Fear  and  distrust  remove  ! 
Oh,  bear  me  safe  above, 

A  ransomed  soul ! 

Ray  Palmer. 


39 


ESUS,  I  my  cross  have  taken, 

All  to  leave,  and  follow  Thee  ; 
Destitute,  despised,  forsaken. 

Thou  from  hence  my  all  shalt  be ; 
Perish  every  fond  ambition, 

All  I  've  sought,  or  hoped,  or  known  ; 
Yet  how  rich  is  my  condition  ! 
God  and  heaven  are  still  my  own  I 

Let  the  world  despise  and  leave  me, 

They  have  left  my  Saviour  too ; 
Human  hearts  and  looks  deceive  me ; 

Thou  art  not,  like  them,  untrue. 
And,  while  Thou  shalt  smile  upon  me, 

God  of  wisdom,  love,  and  might. 
Foes  may  hate  and  friends  may  shun  me ; 

Show  thy  face,  and  all  is  bright ! 
40 


STffiUfii,  3r  mp  Cross  ftabe  taken* 


Go,  then,  earthly  fame  and  treasure ! 

Come  disaster,  scorn,  and  pain  ! 
In  Thy  service,  pain  is  pleasure  ; 

With  Thy  favor,  loss  is  gain. 
1  have  called  Thee,  Abba,  Father  ! 

I  have  stayed  my  heart  on  Thee  ! 
Storms  may  howl,  and  clouds  may  gather, 

All  must  work  for  good  to  me. 

Man  may  trouble  and  distress  me, 

'T  will  but  drive  me  to  Thy  breast ; 
Life  with  trials  hard  may  press  me, 

Heaven  will  bring  me  sweeter  rest. 
Oh,  't  is  not  in  grief  to  harm  me. 

While  Thy  love  is  left  to  me  ! 
Oh,  't  were  not  in  joy  to  charm  me. 

Were  that  joy  unmixed  with  Thee  ! 

Take,  my  soul,  thy  full  salvation ; 

Rise  o'er  sin,  and  fear,  and  care ; 
Joy  to  find,  in  every  station, 

Something  still  to  do  or  bear. 
Think  what  Spirit  dwells  within  thee  ! 

What  a  Father's  smile  is  thine  ! 
What  a  Saviour  died  to  win  thee  ! 

Child  of  Heaven,  shouldst  thou  repine  ? 
41 


3^f6tt6,  3f  mp  Crofifii  I)at)c  taken. 


Haste,  then,  on  from  grace  to  glory, 

Armed  by  faith,  and  winged  by  prayer ! 
Heaven's  eternal  day  's  before  thee  ; 

God's  own  hand  shall  guide  thee  there  ! 
Soon  shall  close  thy  earthly  mission, 

Swift  shall  pass  thy  pilgrim  days, 
Hope  soon  change  to  glad  fruition. 

Faith  to  sight,  and  prayer  to  praise  ! 

Henry  Francis  Lyte. 


42 


■( 


^ 


'>Y 


^oftlp  notd  tf^t  3tigl)t  of  SDap, 


OFTLY  now  the  light  of  day 
Fades  upon  my  sight  away  ; 
Free  from  care,  from  labor  free, 


Lord,  I  would  commune  with  Thee. 

Thou,  whose  all-pervading  eye 
Naught  escapes,  without,  within, 

Pardon  each  infirmity, 
Open  fault,  and  secret  sin. 

Soon  for  me  the  light  of  day 
Shall  forever  pass  away  ; 
Then,  from  sin  and  sorrow  free, 
Take  me,  Lord,  to  dwell  with  thee. 

Thou  who,  sinless,  yet  hast  known 

All  of  man's  infirmity. 
Then,  from  Thine  eternal  throne, 
Jesus,  look  with  pitying  eye. 

George  Washington  Doane. 
43 


y 


ilock  of  %st^. 


OCK  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee ! 
Let  the  water  and  the  blood, 

From  Thy  riven  side  which  flowed, 

Be  of  sin  the  double  cure, 

Cleanse  me  from  its  guilt  and  power. 

Not  the  labors  of  my  hands 
Can  fulfil  Thy  law's  demands  ; 
Could  my  zeal  no  respite  know, 
Could  my  tears  forever  flow, 
All  for  sin  could  not  atone  ; 
Thou  must  save,  and  Thou  alone. 

Nothing  in  my  hand  I  bring ; 
Simply  to  Thy  Cross  I  cling ; 
Naked,  come  to  Thee  for  dress  ; 
Helpless,  look  to  Thee  for  grace ; 
Foul,  I  to  the  Fountain  fly  ; 
Wash  me,  Saviour,  or  I  die. 
44 


( 


1' 


Eocli  of  SlffCfii. 


While  I  draw  this  fleeting  breath, 
When  my  eyestrings  break  in  death, 
When  I  soar  through  tracts  unknown, 
See  Thee  on  Thy  judgment  throne,  — 
Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee  ! 

Augustus  Montague  Toplady 


45 


BIDE  with  me  !  fast  falls  the  eventide  ; 

The  darkness  deepens  ;  Lord,  with  me  abide  ! 
When  other  helpers  fail,  and  cor        "  flee, 


Help  of  the  helpless,  oh,  abide  with  me 

Swift  to  its  close  ebbs  out  life's  little  day ; 
Earth's  joys  grow  dim ;  its  glories  pass  away  ; 
Change  and  decay  in  all  around  I  see  : 
O  Thou,  who  changest  not,  abide  with  me  ! 

Not  a  brief  glance  I  beg,  a  passing  word, 
But,  as  Thou  dwell'st  with  Thy  disciples,  Lord, 
Familiar,  condescending,  patient,  free, 
Come,  not  to  sojourn,  but  abide  with  me  ! 

Come  not  in  terrors,  as  the  King  of  kings, 
But  kind  and  good,  with  healing  in  Thy  wings, 
Tears  for  all  woes,  a  heart  for  every  plea. 
Come,  Friend  of  sinners,  and  thus  'bide  with  me  I 
46 


atbiUe  toiti)  itte. 


Thou  on  my  head  in  early  youth  didst  smile ; 
And,  though  rebellious  and  perverse  meanwhile, 
Thou  hast  not  left  me,  oft  as  I  left  Thee. 
On  to  the  close,  O  Lord,  abide  with  me  ! 

I  need  Thy  presence  every  passing  hour ; 
What  but  Thy  grace  can  foil  the  tempter's  power  ? 
Who  like  Thyself  my  guide  and  stay  can  be  ? 
Through  cloud  and  sunshine,  oh,  abide  with  me  ! 

I  fear  no  foe  with  Thee  at  hand  to  bless ; 
Ills  have  no  weight,  and  tears  no  bitterness. 
Where  is  Death's  sting?  where,  Grave,  thy  victory? 
I  triumph  still,  if  Thou  abide  with  me  ! 

Hold  then  Thy  cross  before  my  closing  eyes ; 
Shine  through  the  gloom,  and  point  me  to  the  skies ; 
Heaven's  morning  breaks,  and  earth's  vain  shadows 

flee; 
In  life  and  death,  O  Lord,  abide  with  me ! 

Henry  Francis  Lvte. 


47 


s 


€&e  let^orning  Etgl^t  i^  fircafeing. 


HE  morning  light  is  breaking, 
The  darkness  disappears, 
The  sons  of  earth  are  waking 
To  penitential  tears. 
Each  breeze  that  sweeps  the  ocean 

Brings  tidings  from  afar 
Of  nations  in  commotion,  ^ 

Prepared  for  Zion's  war. 

Rich  dews  of  grace  come  o'er  us 

In  many  a  gentle  shower, 
And  brighter  scenes  before  us 

Are  opening  every  hour ; 
Each  day,  to  Heaven  going, 

Abundant  answer  brings, 
And  heavenly  gales  are  blowing. 

With  peace  upon  their  wings. 
48 


C[)c  iHorninff  liff^t  is  breaking. 

See  heathen  nations  bending 

Before  the  God  we  love, 
And  thousand  hearts  ascending 

In  gratitude  above ; 
While  sinners,  now  confessing, 

The  gospel  call  obey, 
And  seek  the  Saviour's  blessing, 

A  nation  in  a  day. 

Blest  river  of  salvation. 

Pursue  thy  onward  way ; 
Flow  thou  to  every  nation, 

Nor  in  thy  richness  stay ; 
Stay  not  till  all  the  lowly 

Triumphant  reach  their  home  ; 
Stay  not  till  all  the  holy 

Proclaim,  •'  The  Lord  is  come  !  " 

Samuel  Francis  Smith. 


49 


I^eatct,  mp  oBoD,  to  €l)cc, 

S^SnlEARER,  my  God,  to  Thee, 
S  Wa\         Nearer  to  Thee  ! 
i^Ml     E'en  though  it  be  a  cross 
That  raiseth  me ; 
Still  all  my  song  shall  be, 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 
Nearer  to  Thee  ! 

Though  like  the  wanderer, 
The  sun  gone  down. 

Darkness  be  over  me. 
My  rest  a  stone, 

Yet  in  my  dreams  I  'd  be 

Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 
Nearer  to  Thee  ! 

There  let  the  way  appear 
Steps  unto  heaven ; 

All  that  Thou  sendest  me 
In  mercy  given ; 
50 


;% 


illifarer,  mp  (0oU,  to  Cbcr. 


Angels  to  beckon  me 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 
Nearer  to  Thee ! 

Then,  with  my  waking  thoughts 

Bright  with  Thy  praise, 
Out  of  my  stony  griefs 

Bethel  I  '11  raise  ; 
So  by  my  woes  to  be 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee ! 

Or  if  on  joyful  wing 

Cleaving  the  sky. 
Sun,  moon,  and  stars  forgot, 

Upward  I  fly,  — 
Still  all  my  song  shall  be, 
Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee, 

Nearer  to  Thee. 

Sarah  Flower  Adams. 


SI 


'<&(  ^ucl)  i^  tJ)e  Hingtiom  of  i^eaben/* 


THINK,  when  I  read  that  sweet  story  of  old, 
When  Jesus  was  here  among  men, 
How  he  called  little  children  as  lambs  to  his  fold, 
I  should  like  to  have  been  with  them  then. 


I  wish  that  His  hands  had  been  placed  on  my  head, 
That  His  arm  had  been  thrown  around  me, 

And  that  I  might  have  seen  His  kind  look  when  he  said, 
"  Let  the  little  ones  come  unto  me." 

Yet  still  to  His  footstool  in  prayer  I  may  go, 

And  ask  for  a  share  in  His  love ; 
And  if  I  thus  earnestly  seek  Him  below, 

I  shall  see  Him  and  hear  Him  above, 

In  that  beautiful  place  He  has  gone  to  prepare 

For  all  who  are  washed  and  forgiven  ; 
And  many  dear  children  shall  be  with  Him  there, 

For  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

52 


©f  sue!)  tfi(  tbe  J^inffUom  of  ()cat)en. 

But  thousands  and  thousands  who  wander  and  fall 
Never  heard  of  that  heavenly  home ; 

I  wish  they  could  know  there  is  room  for  them  all, 
And  that  Jesus  had  bid  them  to  come. 

I  long  for  the  joy  of  that  glorious  time, 
The  sweetest,  the  brightest,  the  best, 

When  the  dear  little  children  of  every  clime 
Shall  crowd  to  His  arms  and  be  blest. 

Jemima  Thompson  Luke. 


53 


g^Ujfift  a^  2F  am. 

^g|  UST  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 
3  Ml      But  that  Thy  blood  was  shed  for  me, 
^^1     And  that  Thou  bidd'st  me  come  to  Thee, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  and  waiting  not, 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 
To  Thee,  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come ! 

Just  as  I  am,  though  tossed  about 
With  many  a  conflict,  many  a  doubt. 
Fightings  and  fears  within,  without, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come ! 

Just  as  I  am,  poor,  wretched,  blind, 
Sight,  riches,  healing  of  the  mind. 
Yea,  all  I  need,  in  Thee  to  find, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

54 


3tt6t  36  '^  am. 


Just  as  I  am,  Thou  wilt  receive, 
Wilt  welcome,  pardon,  cleanse,  relieve  ! 
Because  Thy  promise  I  believe, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  —  Thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down,  — 
Now,  to  be  Thine,  yea,  Thine  alone, 
0  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  ! 

Just  as  I  am,  of  that  free  love 
The  breadth,  length,  depth,  and  height  to  prove, 
Here  for  a  season,  then  above, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come ! 

Charlotte  Elliott. 


55 


HILST  Thee  I  seek,  protecting  Power, 
Be  my  vain  wishes  stilled, 
And  may  this  consecrated  hour 
With  better  hopes  be  filled  ! 


Thy  love  the  power  of  thought  bestowed 
To  Thee  my  thoughts  would  soar ; 

Thy  mercy  o'er  my  life  has  flowed, 
That  mercy  I  adore. 

In  each  event  of  life,  how  clear 

Thy  ruling  hand  I  see  ! 
Each  blessing  to  my  soul  more  dear 

Because  conferred  by  Thee. 

In  every  joy  that  crowns  my  days, 

In  every  pain  I  bear, 
My  heart  shall  find  delight  in  praise, 

Or  seek  relief  in  prayer. 
56 


QMhii&t  CI)ee  3f  &ttk. 


When  gladness  wings  my  favored  hour 
Thy  love  my  thoughts  shall  fill ; 

Resigned,  when  storms  of  sorrow  lower, 
My  soul  shall  meet  Thy  will. 

My  lifted  eye  without  a  tear 
The  gathering  storm  shall  see  ; 

My  steadfast  heart  shall  know  no  fear, 
That  heart  shall  rest  on  Thee. 

Helen  Maria  Williams. 


57 


oBuitie  me,  #  €l)ou  great  5^el)obal) ! 


UIDE  me,  O  Thou  great  Jehovah ! 

Pilgrim  through  this  barren  land ; 
I  am  weak,  but  Thou  art  mighty ; 

Hold  me  with  Thy  powerful  hand. 
Bread  of  Heaven  !  Bread  of  Heaven  ! 
Feed  me  now  and  evermore. 


Open  now  the  crystal  fountain, 

Whence  the  healing  streams  do  flow ; 
Let  the  fiery,  cloudy  pillar 

Lead  me  all  my  journey  through. 
Strong  Deliverer  !  strong  Deliverer  ! 
Be  thou  still  my  Strength  and  Shield. 

When  I  tread  the  verge  of  Jordan, 

Bid  my  anxious  fears  subside  ; 
Death  of  deaths,  and  hell's  destruction, 
Land  me  safe  on  Canaan's  side ; 
Songs  of  praises,  songs  of  praises, 
I  will  ever  give  to  Thee. 
58 


(Suitje  me,  ©  C|)Ott  ^reat  ^TcboDal) 


■Musing  on  my  habitation, 

JMusing  on  my  heavenly  home, 
Fills  my  soul  with  holy  longing. 
Come,  my  Jesus,  quickly  come  ! 
Vanity  is  all  I  see  ; 
Lord,  I  long  to  be  with  Thee  ! 

William  Williams, 


59 


gl  Y  cool  Siloam's  shady  rill 

^1  How  sweet  the  lily  grows  ! 

SI      How  sweet  the  breath  beneath  the  hill 

Of  Sharon's  dewy  rose  ! 
Lo  !  such  the  child  whose  early  feet 

The  paths  of  peace  have  trod, 
Whose  secret  heart  with  influence  sweet 

Is  upward  drawn  to  God. 

By  cool  Siloam's  shady  rill 

The  lily  must  decay  ; 
The  rose  that  blooms  beneath  the  hill 

Must  shortly  fade  away  ; 
And  soon,  too  soon,  the  wintry  hour 

Of  man's  maturer  age 
Will  shake  the  soul  with  sorrow's  power 

And  stormy  passion's  rage. 
60 


"^ 


earip  Pictp. 


O  Thou,  whose  infant  feet  were  found 

Within  Thy  Father's  shrine; 
Whose  years  with  changeless  virtue  crowned 

Were  all  alike  divine, 
Dependent  on  Thy  bounteous  breath, 

We  seek  Thy  grace  alone, 
In  childhood,  manhood,  age,  and  death 

To  keep  us  still  Thine  own. 

Reginald  Heber. 


6i 


a^i^^ionarp  l^pmn. 


ROM  Greenland's  icy  mountains, 
From  India's  coral  strand, 
Where  Afric's  sunny  fountains 
Roll  down  their  golden  sand, 
From  many  an  ancient  river, 
From  many  a  palmy  plain, 
They  call  us  to  deliver 

Their  land  from  error's  chain. 


What  though  the  spicy  breezes 

Blow  soft  o'er  Ceylon's  isle,  — 
Though  every  prospect  pleases. 

And  only  man  is  vile  ? 
In  vain  with  lavish  kindness 

The  gifts  of  God  are  strewn ; 
The  heathen  in  his  blindness 

Bows  down  to  wood  and  stone. 
62 


S  r  >i  •  1^ 


;pli66ionarp  |)pmn. 


Can  we,  whose  souls  are  lighted 

With  wisdom  from  on  high, 
Can  we  to  men  benighted 

The  lamp  of  life  deny? 
Salvation,  O  Salvation  ! 

The  joyful  sound  proclaim, 
Till  each  remotest  nation 

Has  learnt  Messiah's  Name. 


Waft,  waft,  ye  winds,  His  story, 

And  you,  ye  waters,  roll. 
Till  like  a  sea  of  glory 

It  spreads  from  pole  to  pole  ; 
Till  o'er  our  ransomed  nature 

The  Lamb  for  sinners  slain, 
Redeemer,  King,  Creator, 

In  bliss  returns  to  reign. 

Reginald  Heber. 


63 


S^  tDoulti  not  libe  smtaap. 

WOULD  not  live  alvvay,  —  live  ahvay  below  ! 

Oh,  no,  I  '11  not  linger,  when  bidden  to  go. 

The  days  of  our  pilgrimage  granted  us  here 
Are  enough  for  life's  woes,  full  enough  for  its  cheer. 
Would  I  shrink  from  the  path  which  the  prophets  of 

God, 
Apostles,  and  martyrs  so  joyfully  trod  ? 
While  brethren  and  friends  are  all  hastening  home, 
Like  a  spirit  unblest,  o'er  the  earth  would  I  roam? 

I  would  not  live  alvvay  :  I  ask  not  to  stay 
Where  storm  after  storm  rises  dark  o'er  the  way ; 
Where,  seeking  for  rest,  I  but  hover  around 
Like  the  patriarch's  bird,  and  no  resting  is  found ; 
Where  Hope,  when  she  paints  her  gay  bow  in  the  air, 
Leaves  her  brilliance  to  fade  in  the  night  of  despair, 
And  Joy's  fleeting  angel  ne'er  sheds  a  glad  ray. 
Save  the  gleam  of  the  plumage  that  bears  him  away. 
64 


^  tuoulU  not  Iit)c  Slliuaj). 


I  would  not  live  alway,  thus  fettered  by  sin, 
Temptation  without,  and  corruption  within ; 
In  a  moment  of  strength,  if  I  sever  the  chain, 
Scarce  the  victory  is  mine  ere  I  'm  captive  again. 
E'en  the  rapture  of  pardon  is  mingled  with  fears, 
x-\nd  the  cup  of  thanksgiving  with  penitent  tears. 
The  festival  trump  calls  for  jubilant  songs. 
But  my  spirit  her  own  miserere  prolongs. 

I  would  not  live  alway  :  no,  welcome  the  tomb  ! 

Immortality's  lamp  burns  there  bright  'mid  the  gloom. 

There,  too,  is  the  pillow  where  Christ  bowed  His  head  ; 

Oh,  soft  be  my  slumbers  on  that  holy  bed  ! 

And  then  the  glad  morn  soon  to  follow  that  night, 

When  the  sunrise  of  glory  shall  burst  on  my  sight, 

And  the  full  matin-song,  as  the  sleepers  arise 

To  shout  in  the  morning,  shall  peal  through  the  skies. 

Who,  who  would  live  alway,  away  from  his  God, 
Away  from  yon  heaven,  that  blissful  abode. 
Where  the  rivers  of  pleasure  flow  o'er  the  bright  plains, 
And  the  noontide  of  glory  eternally  reigns  ; 
Where  the  saints  of  all  ages  in  harmony  meet, 
Their  Saviour  and  brethren  transported  to  greet, 
While  the  anthems  of  rapture  unceasingly  roll, 
And  the  smile  of  the  Lord  is  the  feast  of  the  soul? 
65 


5  tnoulJi  not  Itijc  ^Iroap. 


That  heavenly  music  !  what  is  it  I  hear? 
The  notes  of  the  harpers  ring  sweet  on  my  ear. 
And  see  soft  unfolding  those  portals  of  gold. 
The  King,  all  arrayed  in  His  beauty,  behold ! 
Oh,  give  me,  oh,  give  me  the  wings  of  a  dove  ! 
Let  me  hasten  my  flight  to  those  mansions  above  ! 
Ay,  't  is  now  that  my  soul  on  swift  pinions  would  soar, 
And  in  ecstasy  bid  earth  adieu  evermore. 

William  Augustus  Muhlenberg. 


66 


4^^^.,.  ^5i 


•mJ^\4^ 


>^-^:- 


%eat),  Jtinilp  lisljt. 

Ins^^lEAD,  kindly  Light,  amid  the  encircling  gloom, 

Iw  ^^91        Lead  Thou  me  on. 

IIiTSsSI   "^^^  night  is  dark,  and  I  am  far  from  home  ; 
Lead  Thou  me  on  ; 
Keep  Thou  my  feet ;  I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene  ;  one  step  enough  for  me. 

I  was  not  ever  thus,  nor  prayed  that  Thou 

Shouldst  lead  me  on  ; 
I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path  ;  but  now 

Lead  Thou  me  on. 
I  loved  the  garish  day,  and,  spite  of  fears, 
Pride  ruled  my  will.     Remember  not  past  years  ! 

So  long  Thy  power  has  blest  me,  sure  it  still 

Will  lead  me  on 
O'er  moor  and  fen,  o'er  crag  and  torrent,  till 

The  night  is  gone. 
And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile 
Which  I  have  loved  long  since,  and  lost  awhile  ! 

John  Henry  Newman. 
67 


€l)er0  i^  a  3§appp  Jlanti* 

HERE  is  a  happy  land, 
Far,  far  away, 
Where  saints  in  glory  stand, 
Bright,  bright  as  day. 
Oh,  how  they  sweetly  sing, 
Worthy  is  our  Saviour  King ! 
Loud  let  his  praises  ring,  — 
Praise,  praise  for  aye  ! 

Come  to  this  happy  land, 

Come,  come  away ; 
Why  will  ye  doubting  stand. 

Why  still  delay? 
Oh,  we  shall  happy  be. 
When,  from  sin  and  sorrow  free, 
Lord,  we  shall  live  with  Thee, 

Blest,  blest  for  aye. 
68 


Cbcre  ifi  a  pappp  ianU. 


Bright  in  that  happy  land 

Beams  every  eye ; 
Kept  by  a  Father's  hand, 

Love  cannot  die. 
On,  then,  to  glory  run  ; 
Be  a  crown  and  kingdom  won  ; 
And,  bright  above  the  sun, 

Reign,  reign  for  aye. 

Andrew  Young. 


69 


Ef^ttt  i^  a  Stanti  of  ^ntt  2DeligI)t. 


HERE  is  a  land  of  pure  delight, 
Where  saints  immortal  reign, 
Infinite  day  excludes  the  night, 
And  pleasures  banish  pain. 


There  everlasting  spring  abides, 
And  never-withering  flowers ; 

Death,  like  a  narrow  sea,  divides 
This  heavenly  land  from  ours. 

Sweet  fields  beyond  the  swelling  flood 
Stand  dressed  in  living  green  : 

So  to  the  Jews  old  Canaan  stood, 
While  Jordan  rolled  between. 

But  timorous  mortals  start  and  shrink 

To  cross  this  narrow  sea, 
And  linger  shivering  on  the  brink, 

And  fear  to  launch  away. 


^iHMl^ 


/r 


Cfarrc  16  a  LanU  of  i^urc  IDclig^t. 

Oh,  could  we  make  our  doubts  remove, 
These  gloomy  doubts  that  rise, 

And  see  the  Canaan  that  we  love 
With  unbeclouded  eyes,  — 

Could  we  but  climb  where  Moses  stood, 
And  view  the  landscape  o'er,  — 

Not  Jordan's  stream  nor  death's  cold  flood 
Should  fright  us  from  the  shore  ! 

Isaac  Watts. 


71 


€l)e  l^ilgtim^  of  tl)e  l^igJjt* 


ARK  !  hark,  my  soul !  angelic  songs  are  swelling 
O'er  earth's  green  fields  and  ocean's  wave- 
beat  shore. 

How  sweet  the  truth  those  blessed  strains  are  telling 
Of  that  new  life,  when  sin  shall  be  no  more  ! 
Angels  of  Jesus, 

Angels  of  light, 
Singing  to  welcome 

The  pilgrims  of  the  night  ! 

Darker  than  night  life's  shadows  fall  around  us, 
And  like  benighted  men  we  miss  our  mark : 
God  hides  Himself,  and  grace  hath  scarcely  found  us, 
Ere  death  finds  out  his  victims  in  the  dark. 
Angels  of  Jesus, 

Angels  of  light, 
Singing  to  welcome 

The  pilgrims  of  the  night  ! 


eri)e  ptlsrims  of  tlje  Bi%\)U 


Onward  we  go,  for  still  we  hear  them  singing, 

"  Come,  weary  souls,  for  Jesus  bids  you  come  !  " 
And  through  the  dark,  its  echoes  sweetly  ringing, 
The  music  of  the  Gospel  leads  us  home. 
Angels  of  Jesus, 

Angels  of  light. 
Singing  to  welcome 

The  pilgrims  of  the  night ! 

Far,  far  away,  like  bells  at  evening  pealing, 

The  voice  of  Jesus  sounds  o'er  land  and  sea ; 
And  laden  souls  by  thousands  meekly  stealing, 
Kind  Shepherd,  turn  their  weary  steps  to  Thee. 
Angels  of  Jesus, 

Angels  of  light, 
Singing  to  welcome 

The  pilgrims  of  the  night ! 

Rest  comes  at  last ;  though  life  be  long  and  dreary, 

The  day  must  dawn,  and  darksome  night  be  past ; 
All  journeys  end  in  welcomes  to  the  weary, 

And  heaven,  the  heart's  true  home,  will  come  at  last. 
Angels  of  Jesus, 

Angels  of  light, 
Singing  to  welcome 

The  pilgrims  of  the  night  ! 
7^ 


STbe  ptlffrtms  of  tbc  Bis:I)t. 


Cheer  up,  my  soul !  faith's  moonbeams  softly  glisten 

Upon  the  breast  of  life's  most  troubled  sea, 
And  it  will  cheer  thy  drooping  heart  to  listen 

To  those  brave  songs  which  angels  mean  for  thee. 
Angels  of  Jesus, 

Angels  of  light, 
Singing  to  welcome 

The  pilgrims  of  the  night ! 

Angels,  sing  on,  your  faithful  watches  keeping, 
Sing  us  sweet  fragments  of  the  songs  above. 
While  we  toil  on,  and  soothe  ourselves  with  weeping, 
Till  life's  long  night  shall  break  in  endless  love. 
Angels  of  Jesus, 

Angels  of  light. 
Singing  to  welcome 

The  pilgrims  of  the  night ! 

Frederick  William  Faber. 


74 


ORD,  dismiss  us,  with  Thy  blessing  ; 
Fill  our  hearts  with  joy  and  peace ; 
Let  us  each,  Thy  love  possessing, 
Triumph  in  redeeming  grace  ; 

Oh,  refresh  us, 
Travelling  through  this  wilderness  ! 

Thanks  we  give,  and  adoration, 
For  Thy  Gospel's  joyful  sound  ; 

May  the  fruit  of  Thy  salvation 
In  our  hearts  and  lives  abound ! 

May  thy  presence 
With  us  evermore  be  found ! 

So,  whene'er  the  signal 's  given 

Us  from  earth  to  call  away, 
Borne  on  angels'  wings  to  heaven, 
Glad  the  summons  to  obey, 

May  we  ever 
Reign  with  Christ  in  endless  day  ! 
75 


PARADISE  !  O  Paradise 

Who  doth  not  crave  for  rest  ? 
Who  would  not  seek  the  happy  land 
Where  they  that  loved  are  blest? 
Where  loyal  hearts  and  true 

Stand  ever  in  the  light, 
All  rapture  through  and  through, 
In  God's  most  holy  sight? 


O  Paradise  !  O  Paradise  ! 

The  world  is  growing  old  ; 
Who  would  not  be  at  rest  and  free 
Where  love  is  never  cold  ? 
Where  loyal  hearts  and  true 

Stand  ever  in  the  light, 
All  rapture  through  and  through, 
In  God's  most  holy  sight  ? 
76 


|3avaUiiSc. 


O  Paradise  !  O  Paradise  ! 

Wherefore  doth  death  delay,  — 
Bright  death,  that  is  the  welcome  dawn 
Of  our  eternal  day, 

Where  loyal  hearts  and  true 

Stand  ever  in  the  light, 
All  rapture  through  and  through, 
In  God's  most  holy  sight? 

0  Paradise  !  O  Paradise  ! 
'T  is  weary  waiting  here  : 

1  long  to  be  where  Jesus  is, 
To  feel,  to  see  Him  near. 

Where  loyal  hearts  and  true 
Stand  ever  in  the  light, 

All  rapture  through  and  through, 
In  God's  most  holy  sight. 

0  Paradise  !  O  Paradise  ! 
I  want  to  sin  no  more ; 

1  want  to  be  as  pure  on  earth 

As  on  thy  spotless  shore, 
Where  loyal  hearts  and  true 

Stand  ever  in  the  light, 
All  rapture  through  and  through, 
In  God's  most  holy  sight. 
n 


ParaHisie. 


O  Paradise  !  O  Paradise  ! 

I  greatly  long  to  see 
The  special  place  my  dearest  Lord 
Is  destining  for  me, 

Where  loyal  hearts  and  true 

Stand  ever  in  the  light, 
All  rapture  through  and  through, 
In  God's  most  holy  sight. 

Frederick  William  Faber. 


7« 


CfjilDren  of  tt^t  i^cabenJp  Jitng. 


HILDREN  of  the  heavenly  King, 
As  we  journey,  sweetly  sing  ; 
Sing  our  Saviour's  worthy  praise, 
Glorious  in  His  works  and  ways. 


We  are  travelling  home  to  God, 
In  the  way  the  fathers  trod  : 
They  are  happy  now,  and  we 
Soon  their  happiness  shall  see. 

Banished  once,  by  sin  betrayed, 
Christ  our  Advocate  was  made  ; 
Pardoned  now,  no  more  we  roam, 
Christ  conducts  us  to  our  home. 

Lord,  obediently  we  go, 
Gladly  leaving  all  below  ; 
Only  Thou  our  Leader  be, 
And  we  still  will  follow  Thee. 

John  Cennick. 
79 


/ 


€0  ZtntI). 


STAR  of  Truth,  down  shining 

Through  clouds  of  doubt  and  fear, 
I  ask  but  'neath  your  guidance 
My  pathway  may  appear. 
However  long  the  journey, 

How  hard  soe'er  it  be. 
Though  I  be  lone  and  weary, 
Lead  on,  I  '11  follow  thee  ! 


I  know  thy  blessed  radiance 

Can  never  lead  astray, 
However  ancient  custom 

May  tread  some  other  way. 
E'en  if  through  untrod  deserts, 

Or  over  trackless  sea, 
Though  I  be  lone  and  weary, 

Lead  on,  I  '11  follow  thee  ! 
8o 


Co  Crtttl). 


The  bleeding  feet  of  martyrs 

Thy  toilsome  road  have  trod ; 
But  fires  of  human  passion 

May  light  the  way  to  God. 
Then,  though  my  feet  should  falter, 

While  I  thy  beams  can  see, 
Though  I  be  lone  and  dreary, 

Lead  on,  I  '11  follow  thee  ! 

Though  loving  friends  forsake  me, 

Or  plead  with  me  in  tears,  — 
Though  angry  foes  may  threaten 

To  shake  my  soul  with  fears,  — 
Still  to  my  high  allegiance 

I  must  not  faithless  be  : 
Through  life  or  death,  forever 

Lead  on,  I  '11  follow  thee ! 

Mi  NOT  J.  Savage. 


8i 


7 


^till,  ^till  toiti)  €1)00, 


K^^i  TILL,  still  with   Thee,  when   purple  morning 
w^?mI  breaketh, 

l^^^l      When  the  bird  waketh,  and  the  shadows  flee  ; 
Fairer  than  morning,  lovelier  than  the  daylight, 
Dawns  the  sweet  consciousness  I  am  with  Thee. 

Alone  with  Thee,  amid  the  mystic  shadows, 
The  solemn  hush  of  Nature  newly  born ; 

Alone  with  Thee,  in  breathless  adoration, 
In  the  calm  dew  and  freshness  of  the  morn. 

As  in  the  dawning  o'er  the  waveless  ocean 
The  image  of  the  morning  star  doth  rest, 

So  in  this  stillness  Thou  beholdest  only 
Thine  image  in  the  waters  of  my  breast. 

Still,  still  with  Thee,  as  to  each  new-born  morning 
A  fresh  and  solemn  splendor  still  is  given ; 

So  doth  this  blessed  consciousness,  awaking, 

Breathe  each  day  nearness  unto  Thee  and  heaven. 
82 


Q 


,..,/ 


/ 


•till,  fiitill  tDitl)  Cbee. 


When  sinks  the  soul,  subdued  by  toil,  to  slumber, 
Its  closing  eye  looks  up  to  Thee  in  prayer ; 

Sweet  the  repose  beneath  Thy  wings  o'ershadowing, 
But  sweeter  still  to  wake  and  find  Thee  there. 

So  shall  it  be  at  last,  in  that  bright  morning, 
When  the  soul  waketh,  and  the  shadows  flee ; 

Oh  !  in  that  hour,  fairer  than  daylight's  dawning. 
Shall  rise  the  glorious  thought,  I  am  with  Thee. 

Mrs.  H.  B.  Stowe. 


83 


^  toa^  a  J^anticting  ^l)ccp. 

WAS  a  wandering  sheep, 
I  did  not  love  the  fold, 
I  did  not  love  my  Shepherd's  voice, 
I  would  not  be  controlled. 
I  was  a  wayward  child, 

I  did  not  love  my  home, 
I  did  not  love  my  Father's  voice, 
I  loved  afar  to  roam. 

The  Shepherd  sought  His  sheep, 

The  Father  sought  His  child  ; 
They  followed  me  o'er  vale  and  hill. 

O'er  deserts  waste  and  wild. 
They  found  me  nigh  to  death, 

Famished,  and  faint,  and  lone  ; 
They  bound  me  with  the  bands  of  love  : 

They  saved  the  wandering  one. 
84 


^  toas  a  SLSEanHcriiiff  ^faecp* 

Jesus  my  Shepherd  is  : 

'T  was  He  that  loved  my  soul, 
'T  was  He  that  washed  me  in  His  blood, 

'T  was  He  that  made  me  whole ; 
'T  was  He  that  sought  the  lost, 

That  found  the  wandering  sheep  ; 
'T  was  He  that  brought  me  to  the  fold, 

'T  is  He  that  still  doth  keep. 

I  was  a  wandering  sheep, 

I  would  not  be  controlled  ; 
But  now  I  love  my  Shepherd's  voice, 

I  love,  I  love  the  fold ! 
I  was  a  wayward  child  ; 

I  once  preferred  to  roam  ; 
But  now  I  love  my  Father's  voice,  — 

I  love,  I  love  His  home  ! 

HORATIUS   BONAR. 


85 


3^11  i^cabenlp  Sloije  aBitiine* 

^^n  N  heavenly  love  abiding, 
I  |ra|         No  change  my  heart  shall  fear, 
^b|      And  safe  in  such  confiding, 
For  nothing  changes  here^ 
The  storm  may  roar  without  me. 

My  heart  may  low  be  laid ; 
But  God  is  round  about  me, 
And  can  I  be  dismayed? 

Wherever  He  may  guide  me, 

No  want  shall  turn  me  back  ; 
My  Shepherd  is  beside  me, 

And  nothing  can  I  lack. 
His  wisdom  ever  waketh. 

His  sight  is  never  dim, 
He  knows  the  way  He  taketh, 

And  I  will  walk  with  Him. 
86 


^n  |)cabcnlp  loijc  aitUina:. 


Green  pastures  are  before  me, 

Which  yet  I  have  not  seen ; 
Bright  skies  will  soon  be  o'er  me, 

Where  darkest  clouds  have  been. 
My  hope  I  cannot  measure, 

My  path  to  life  is  free  ; 
My  Saviour  has  my  treasure, 

•  And  He  will  walk  with  me. 

Anna  L.  Waring. 


87 


^n  tlie  €to^$  of  Cl)ri^t  ^  glotp. 


N  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory, 

Towering  o'er  the  wrecks  of  time  ; 
All  the  light  of  sacred  story 
Gathers  round  its  head  subKme. 


When  the  woes  of  life  o'ertake  me, 
Hopes  deceive,  and  fears  annoy, 

Never  shall  the  cross  forsake  me  : 
Lo  !  it  glows  with  peace  and  joy. 

When  the  sun  of  bliss  is  beaming 
Light  and  love  upon  my  way, 

From  the  cross  the  radiance  streaming 
Adds  new  lustre  to  the  day. 

Bane  and  blessing,  pain  and  pleasure, 
By  the  cross  are  sanctified ; 

Peace  is  there  that  knows  no  measure, 
Joys  that  through  all  time  abide. 
88 


^n  the  €ro00  of  Cbrtst  5  fflorp. 

In  the  cross  of  Christ  I  glory, 

Towering  o'er  the  wrecks  of  time ; 

All  the  light  of  sacred  story 

Gathers  round  its  head  sublime. 

John  Bowring 


89 


HOLY  Saviour,  Friend  unseen, 
The  faint,  the  weak,  on  Thee  may  lean  ; 
Help  me  throughout  life's  varying  scene 
By  faith  to  cling  to  Thee. 


Blest  with  communion  so  divine, 
Take  what  Thou  wilt,  shall  I  repine. 
When,  as  the  branches  to  the  vine. 
My  soul  may  cling  to  Thee  ? 

Far  from  her  home,  fatigued,  oppressed. 
Here  she  has  found  a  place  of  rest. 
An  exile  still,  yet  not  unblest. 
While  she  can  cling  to  Thee. 

What  though  the  world  deceitful  prove, 
And  earthly  friends  and  joys  remove, 
With  patient,  uncomplaining  love, 
Still  would  I  cling  to  Thee. 
90 


(B  {)olP  ^aDiour. 


Though  faith  and  hope  awhile  be  tried, 
I  ask  not,  need  not,  aught  beside  ; 
How  safe,  how  cahn,  how  satisfied, 
The  soul  that  clings  to  Thee  ! 

Blest  is  my  lot,  whate'er  befall ; 
What  can  disturb  me,  who  appall. 
While  as  my  strength,  my  rock,  my  all. 
Saviour,  I  cling  to  Thee  ? 

Charlotte  Elliott 


91 


Wf^m  9^  c^utijep  tJ)e  U^ontirau^  €vo^^. 


HEN  I  survey  the  wondrous  Cross 

On  which  the  Prince  of  Glory  died, 
My  richest  gain  I  count  but  loss, 
And  pour  contempt  on  all  my  pride. 


Forbid  it,  Lord,  that  I  should  boast, 
Save  in  the  Cross  of  Christ,  my  God  : 

All  the  vain  things  that  charm  me  most, 
I  sacrifice  them  to  Thy  Blood. 

See,  from  His  head,  His  hands,  His  feet. 
Sorrow  and  love  flow  mingled  down  ! 

Did  e'er  such  love  and  sorrow  meet, 
Or  thorns  compose  a  Saviour's  crown  ? 

Were  the  whole  realm  of  nature  mine, 
That  were  a  tribute  far  too  small ; 

Love  so  amazing,  so  divine, 

Demands  my  life,  my  soul,  my  all. 

Isaac  Watts. 
92 


J^abiour,  btcatfje  an  lEtjening  25Ic^^in0. 


AVIOUR,  breathe  an  evening  blessing, 
Ere  repose  our  spirits  seal ; 
Sin  and  want  we  come  confessing, 
Thou  canst  save,  and  Thou  canst  heal. 


Though  destruction  walk  around  us, 

Though  the  arrow  past  us  fly, 
Angel-guards  from  Thee  surround  us ; 

We  are  safe,  if  Thou  art  nigh. 

Though  the  night  be  dark  and  dreary. 
Darkness  cannot  hide  from  Thee  ; 

Thou  art  He  who,  never  weary, 
Watchest  where  Thy  people  be. 

Should  swift  death  this  night  o'ertake  us, 

And  our  couch  become  our  tomb, 
May  the  morn  in  heaven  awake  us, 
Clad  in  light  and  deathless  bloom. 

James  Edmeston. 
93 


tSSTwl ELCOME,  happy  morning! 

E^ggl      Hell  to-day  is  vanquished, 
Heaven  is  won  to-day  ! 
Lo,  the  dead  is  living, 

God  forevermore ! 
Him,  their  true  Creator, 
All  his  works  adore. 

Earth  with  joy  confesses, 

Clothing  her  for  spring, 
All  good  gifts  returned  with 

Her  returning  King : 
Bloom  in  every  meadow, 

Leaves  on  every  bough, 
Speak  His  sorrows  ended, 

Hail  His  triumph  now. 

Maker  and  Redeemer, 
Life  and  health  of  all, 

Thou,  from  heaven  beholding 
Human  nature's  fall, 
94 


5l5Eelcomf,  ^appp  ;fHorniug: 


Of  the  Father's  Godhead 

True  and  only  Son, 
Manhood  to  deliver, 

Manhood  didst  put  on. 

Thou,  of  life  the  Author, 

Death  didst  undergo, 
Tread  the  path  of  darkness, 

Saving  strength  to  show. 
Come,  then,  true  and  faithful, 

Now  fulfil  Thy  word, 
'T  is  Thine  own  third  morning, 

Rise,  my  buried  Lord  ! 

Loose  the  souls  long  prisoned, 

Bound  with  Satan's  chain  ; 
All  that  now  is  fallen 

Raise  to  life  again  ; 
Show  Thy  face  in  brightness, 

Bid  the  nations  see, 
Bring  again  our  daylight : 

Day  returns  with  Thee. 

Venantius  Fortunatus  (Tr.  Ellerton). 
95 


I©l)en  Jttornins  gilti^  ti^t  M^hit^- 


HEN  morning  gilds  the  skies^ 
My  heart,  awaking,  cries, 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised  ! 
Alike  at  work  and  prayer 
To  Jesus  I  repair ; 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised ! 

To  Thee,  my  God  above, 
I  cry  with  glowing  love. 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised  ! 
This  song  of  sacred  joy, 
It  never  seems  to  cloy, 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised ! 

Does  sadness  fill  my  mind  ? 
A  solace  here  I  find, 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised  ! 
Or  fades  my  earthly  bliss  ? 
My  comfort  still  is  this, 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised  ! 
96 


A 


-#i*. 


■■-t«?^5^ 


x^^ 


w;-' 


^W'"^- 


^^^ 


o»<iJ^Wffii; . 


(fflbfu  ;fHorning:  ffilUs  tbe  ^feics. 


When  evil  thoughts  molest, 
With  this  I  shield  my  breast, 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised  ! 
The  powers  of  darkness  fear, 
When  this  sweet  chant  they  hear, 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised  ! 

When  sleep  her  balm  denies, 
My  silent  spirit  sighs, 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised  ! 
The  night  becomes  as  day, 
When  from  the  heart  we  say, 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised  ! 

Be  this,  while  life  is  mine, 
My  canticle  divine, 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised  ! 
Be  this  the  eternal  song 
Through  all  the  ages  on, 
May  Jesus  Christ  be  praised  ! 

German,  Tr.  Caswall. 


97 


StoDcsSt  €l)ou  319c? 

ARK,  my  soul !  it  is  the  Lord  : 
'T  is  thy  Saviour,  hear  his  word ; 
Jesus  speaks,  and  speaks  to  thee  : 
"  Say,  poor  sinner,  lovest  thou  me  ? 

"  I  delivered  thee  when  bound. 
And  when  bleeding,  healed  thy  wound ; 
Sought  thee  wandering,  set  thee  right, 
Turned  thy  darkness  into  light. 

"  Can  a  woman's  tender  care 
Cease  towards  the  child  she  bare? 
Yes,  she  may  forgetful  be. 
Yet  will  I  remember  thee. 

"  Mine  is  an  unchanging  love, 
Higher  than  the  heights  above ; 
Deeper  than  the  depths  beneath. 
Free  and  faithful,  strong  as  death. 


loDtfit  Cbott  iHe? 


"  Thou  shalt  see  my  glory  soon, 
When  the  work  of  grace  is  done, 
Partner  of  my  throne  shalt  be  :  — 
Say,  poor  shmer,  lovest  thou  me?" 

Lord,  it  is  my  chief  complaint. 
That  my  love  is  weak  and  faint ; 
Yet  I  love  Thee  and  adore  : 
Oh  !  for  grace  to  love  Thee  more  ! 

William  CowrER. 


99 


25Ie^t  Be  ti^t  €tc  tftat  Biuti^, 


LEST  be  the  tie  that  binds 
Our  hearts  in  Jesus'  love  ; 
The  fellowship  of  Christian  minds 
Is  hke  to  that  above. 


Before  our  Father's  throne 

We  pour  united  prayers  ; 
Our  fears,  our  hopes,  our  aims,  are  one, 

Our  comforts,  and  our  cares. 

We  share  our  mutual  woes, 

Our  mutual  burdens  bear, 
And  often  for  each  other  flows 

The  sympathizing  tear. 

When  we  at  death  must  part, 
Not  like  the  world's  our  pain  ; 

But  one  in  Christ,  and  one  in  heart. 
We  part  to  meet  again. 

100 


«<  •  * 


^>    ' 


^Icfiit  be  tl)c  QLit  tl)at  fainUfii. 


From  sorrow,  toil,  and  pain, 

And  sin,  we  shall  be  free ; 
And  perfect  love  and  friendship  reign 

Throughout  eternity. 

John  Fawcett. 


fierce  toa^  tf^t  Wilh  25illotD. 


lERCE  was  the  wild  billow, 
Dark  was  the  night ; 
Oars  labored  heavily, 
Foam  glimmered  white ; 
Mariners  trembled, 

Peril  was  nigh ; 
Then  said  the  God  of  God, 
"  Peace  !     It  is  I." 

Ridge  of  the  mountain  wave, 

Lower  thy  crest ; 
Wail  of  the  tempest  wind. 

Be  thou  at  rest ; 
Peril  can  none  be, 

Sorrow  must  fly, 
Where  saith  the  Light  of  light, 

'*  Peace!     It  is  L" 

102 


JFicrce  toas  tl)c  WiiUi  -StllotD. 


Jesus,  Deliverer, 

Come  Thou  to  me ; 
Soothe  Thou  my  voyaging 

Over  life's  sea. 
Thou,  when  the  storm  of  death 

Roars,  sweeping  by, 
Whisper,  O  Truth  of  truth, 

"  Peace  !     It  is  I." 

St.  Anatolius  (Tr.  Neale). 


103 


i^arh !  tt^t  i$ttalh  ^nqtl^  ^ing. 


ARK  !  the  herald  angels  sing 
Glory  to  the  new-born  King  ! 
Peace  on  earth,  and  mercy  mild, 


God  and  sinners  reconciled  ! 
Joyful,  all  ye  nations,  rise, 
Join  the  triumph  of  the  skies  ; 
With  the  angelic  host  proclaim, 
Christ  is  born  in  Bethlehem  ! 

Hark!  the  herald  angels  sing 
Glory  to  the  new-born  King ! 

Christ,  by  highest  heaven  adored, 
Christ,  the  everlasting  Lord, 
Late  in  time,  behold  him  come, 
Offspring  of  the  Virgin's  womb  ! 
Veiled  in  flesh  the  Godhead  see, 
Hail  the  Incarnate  Deity, 
Pleased  as  Man  with  men  to  dwell, 
Jesus,  our  Emmanuel ! 

Hark  !  the  herald  angels  sing 

Glory  to  the  new-born  King  ! 

104 


^ 


i 


J)arfe!   tljc  f)eralli  Slnstls  einff. 


Risen  with  healing  in  His  wings, 

Light  and  life  to  all  He  brings. 

Hail,  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  ! 

Hail,  the  heaven-born  Prince  of  Peace  ! 

Holy  Father,  Holy  Son, 

Holy  Spirit,  Three  in  One  ! 

Glory,  as  of  old,  to  Thee 

Now  and  evermore  shall  be  ! 

Hark  !  the  herald  angels  sing 
Glory  to  the  new-born  King  ! 

Charles  Wesley. 


105 


3^  I)0arD  tl)e  Boice  of  3^e^u^  ^ap, 

HEARD  the  voice  of  Jesus  say, 
"  Come  unto  ]\Ie  and  rest ; 
Lay  down,  thou  weary  one,  lay  down 
Thy  head  upon  My  breast." 
I  came  to  Jesus  as  I  was, 

All  weary,  worn,  and  sad; 
I  found  in  Him  a  resting  place, 
And  He  has  made  me  glad. 

I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say, 

"  Behold,  I  freely  give 
The  Hving  water  ;  thirsty  one, 

Stoop  down,  and  drink,  and  live." 
I  came  to  Jesus,  and  I  drank 

Of  that  Hfe-giving  stream  ; 
My  thirst  was  quenched,  my  soul  revived, 

And  now  I  hve  in  Him. 
io6 


'^  Ijcarli  t\)t  ^oicc  of  Jcfius  gap. 

I  heard  the  voice  of  Jesus  say, 

"  I  am  this  dark  world's  Light ; 
Look  unto  Me,  thy  morn  shall  rise, 

And  all  thy  day  be  bright." 
I  looked  to  Jesus,  and  I  found 

In  Him  my  Star,  my  Sun ; 
And  in  that  Light  of  life  I  '11  walk 

Till  travelling  days  are  done. 

HORATIUS    BoNAR. 


107 


ERUSALEM,  the  golden ! 

With  milk  and  honey  blest, 
Beneath  thy  contemplation 

Sink  heart  and  voice  oppressed. 
I  know  not,  oh,  I  know  not 
What  joys  await  us  there, 
What  radiancy  of  glory, 

What  bliss  beyond  compare. 

They  stand,  those  halls  of  Zion, 

All  jubilant  with  song, 
And  bright  with  many  an  angel, 

And  all  the  martyr  throng. 
The  Prince  is  ever  in  them. 

The  daylight  is  serene  ; 
The  pastures  of  the  blessed 

Are  decked  in  glorious  sheen. 
io8 


3feruc!alcm,  t\)t  (0ollicn, 


There  is  the  throne  of  David, 

And  there,  from  care  released, 
The  shout  of  them  that  triumph, 

The  song  of  them  that  feast ; 
And  they,  who  with  their  Leader 

Have  conquered  in  the  fight, 
Forever  and  forever 

Are  clad  in  robes  of  white. 

O  sweet  and  blessed  country, 

The  home  of  God's  elect  I 
O  sweet  and  blessed  country, 

That  eager  hearts  expect ! 
Jesus,  in  mercy  bring  us 

To  that  dear  land  of  rest, 
Who  art,  with  God  the  Father, 

And  Spirit,  ever  blest. 

St.  Bernard  (Tr.  Neale). 


109 


%  charge  to  feecp  ^  ijaht. 


CHARGE  to  keep  I  have, 
A  God  to  glorify, 
A  never-dying  soul  to  save, 
And  fit  it  for  the  sky. 


From  youth  to  hoary  age. 

My  calling  to  fulfil. 
Oh,  may  it  all  my  powers  engage 

To  do  my  Master's  will ! 

Arm  me  with  jealous  care 

As  in  Thy  sight  to  live ; 
And  oh,  Thy  servant,  Lord,  prepare 

A  strict  account  to  give  ! 

Help  me  to  watch  and  pray. 

And  on  Thyself  rely. 
Assured,  if  I  my  trust  betray, 

I  shall  forever  die. 

Charles  Wesley. 
no 


^^ 


H,  could  I  speak  the  matchless  worth, 
Oh,  could  I  sound  the  glories  forth, 
Which  in  my  Saviour  shine, 
I  \1  soar  and  touch  the  heavenly  strings, 
And  vie  with  Gabriel  while  he  sings 
In  notes  almost  divine. 

I  'd  sing  the  characters  He  bears, 
And  all  the  forms  of  love  He  wears, 

Exalted  on  His  throne  ; 
In  loftiest  songs  of  sweetest  praise, 
I  would,  to  everlasting  days, 

Make  all  His  glories  known. 

Oh,  the  delightful  day  will  come 

When  my  dear  Lord  will  bring  me  home, 

And  I  shall  see  His  face  ! 
Then,  with  my  Saviour,  Brother,  Friend, 
A  blest  eternity  I  '11  spend. 

Triumphant  in  His  grace. 

Samuel  Medley. 
Ill 


(©ntoarti,  €t)ri^tian  J^oltiicr^* 


NWARD,  Christian  soldiers ! 
Marching  as  to  war, 
With  the  cross  of  Jesus 
Going  on  before. 
Christ  the  Royal  Master 
Leads  against  the  foe  ; 
Forward  into  battle, 
See,  his  banners  go. 

At  the  sign  of  triumph, 

Satan's  host  doth  flee, 
On,  then,  Christian  soldiers, 

On  to  victory ! 
Hell's  foundations  quiver 

At  the  shout  of  praise  ; 
Brothers,  lift  your  voices. 

Loud  your  anthems  raise  ! 

Like  a  mighty  army 

Moves  the  Church  of  God ; 
Brothers,  we  are  treading 

Where  the  saints  have  trod  ; 


©ntoarU,  Cbristtan  ;§»olliirrd 


We  are  not  divided, 

All  one  body  we, 
One  in  hope  and  doctrine, 

One  in  charity. 

Crowns  and  thrones  may  perish, 

Kingdoms  rise  and  wane, 
But  the  Church  of  Jesus 

Constant  will  remain. 
Gates  of  hell  can  never 

'Gainst  that  Church  prevail ; 
We  have  Christ's  own  promise, 

And  that  cannot  fail. 

Onward,  then,  ye  people  ! 

Join  our  happy  throng  ; 
Blend  with  ours  your  voices 

In  the  triumph  song  ! 
Glory,  laud,  and  honor 

Unto  Christ  the  King  ! 
This  through  countless  ages 

Men  and  angels  sing. 

S.  Baring-Gould, 
113 


(©ur  Ble^t  iSetieemer,  ttt  i$t  6reatl)eti, 


UR  blest  Redeemer,  ere  He  breathed 
His  tender,  last  farewell, 
A  Guide,  a  Comforter,  bequeathed, 
With  us  to  dwell. 


He  came  in  semblance  of  a  dove, 
With  sheltering  wings  outspread, 
The  holy  balm  of  peace  and  love 
On  earth  to  shed. 

He  came  sweet  influence  to  impart, 

A  gracious,  willing  Guest, 
While  He  can  find  one  humble  heart 
Wherein  to  rest. 

And  His  that  gentle  voice  we  hear, 

Soft  as  the  breath  of  even. 
That  checks  each  thought,  that  calms  each  fear, 
And  speaks  of  heaven. 
114 


Oux  "^Slcfiit  JSeHcemcr,  ere  |)e  fcreatbeU. 

And  every  virtue  we  possess, 

And  every  victory  won, 
And  every  thouglit  of  holiness 
Are  His  alone. 

Spirit  of  purity  and  grace, 

Our  weakness,  pitying,  see  ; 
Oh,  make  our  hearts  Thy  dwelling-place, 
And  meet  for  Thee  ! 

Oh,  praise  the  Father,  praise  the  Son ! 

Blest  Spirit,  praise  to  Thee  ! 
All  praise  to  God,  the  Three  in  One, 
The  One  in  Three  ! 

Harriet  Auber. 


15 


^un  of  mp  ^oul,  €l)au  ^abiout  heat. 


UN  of  my  soul,  Thou  Saviour  dear, 
It  is  not  night  if  Thou  be  near ; 
Oh,  may  no  earth-born  cloud  arise 


To  hide  Thee  from  Thy  servant's  eyes  ! 

When  the  soft  dews  of  kindly  sleep 
My  weary  eyelids  gently  steep, 
Be  my  last  thought  how  sweet  to  rest 
Forever  on  my  Saviour's  breast ! 

Abide  with  me  from  morn  till  eve, 
For  without  Thee  I  cannot  live  ; 
Abide  with  me  when  night  is  nigh, 
For  without  Thee  I  dare  not  die. 

If  some  poor  wandering  child  of  Thine 
Have  spurned  to-day  the  voice  divine, 
Now,  Lord,  the  gracious  work  begin ; 
Let  him  no  more  lie  down  in  sin. 
ii6 


) 


^un  of  mp  ^onh  Cbou  ^abiour  tiear. 

Watch  by  the  sick ;  enrich  the  poor 
With  blessings  from  Tliy  boundless  store  ; 
Be  every  mourner's  sleep  to-night, 
Like  infant  slumbers,  pure  and  light. 

Come  near  and  bless  us  when  we  wake, 
Ere  through  the  world  our  way  we  take, 
Till  in  the  ocean  of  Thy  love 
We  lose  ourselves  in  heaven  above. 

J.  Keble. 


117 


€1)0  J^fjatiotD^  of  ti)e  ^toening  I^outs> 


HE  shadows  of  the  evening  hours 
Fall  from  the  darkening  sky ; 
Upon  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers 
The  dews  of  evening  lie. 
Before  Thy  throne,  O  Lord  of  heaven, 

We  kneel  at  close  of  day ; 
Look  on  Thy  children  from  on  high, 
And  hear  us  while  we  pray. 

The  sorrows  of  Thy  servants,  Lord, 

Oh,  do  not  Thou  despise  ! 
But  let  the  incense  of  our  prayers 

Before  Thy  mercy  rise. 
The  brightness  of  the  coming  night 

Upon  the  darkness  rolls  ; 
With  hopes  of  future  glory  chase 

The  shadows  on  our  souls. 
ii8 


^^^ 


} 


i*.^ 


(Ll)c  ^baUotofii  of  tiK  (Etjcnins:  {)ourfi. 

Slowly  the  rays  of  daylight  fade  ; 

So  fade  within  our  heart 
The  hopes  in  earthly  love  and  joy 

That  one  by  one  depart ; 
Slowly  the  bright  stars,  one  by  one, 

Within  the  heavens  shine  : 
Give  us,  O  Lord,  fresh  hopes  in  heaven, 

And  trust  in  things  divine. 

Let  peace,  O  Lord  !  Thy  peace,  O  God  ! 

Upon  our  souls  descend  ; 
From  midnight  fears  and  perils  Thou 

Our  trembling  hearts  defend  ; 
Give  us  a  respite  from  our  toil. 

Calm  and  subdue  our  woes  ; 
Through  the  long  day  we  suffer,  Lord, 

Oh,  give  us  now  repose  ! 

Adelaide  Proctor. 


119 


i$atk !  tpliat  mean  ti^o^c  ^^olp  Boiccs  ? 


ARK  !  what  mean  those  holy  voices, 

Sweetly  sounding  through  the  skies  ? 
Lo  !  the  angelic  host  rejoices, 
Heavenly  Alleluias  rise. 


Listen  to  the  wondrous  story, 

Which  they  chant  in  hymns  of  joy  : 

"  Glory  in  the  highest,  glory  ! 
Glory  be  to  God  most  high ! 

"  Peace  on  earth,  good  will  from  heaven, 
Reaching  far  as  man  is  found ; 

Souls  redeemed  and  sins  forgiven, 
Loud  our  golden  harps  shall  sound. 

"  Christ  is  born,  the  great  Anointed ! 

Heaven  and  earth  His  praises  sing ! 
Oh,  receive  whom  God  appointed 

For  your  Prophet,  Priest,  and  King ! 


park!  lul)at  mean  tbose  |)oIp  Soicefi? 


"  Hasten,  mortals,  to  adore  Him  ! 

Learn  His  Name  to  magnify, 
Till  in  heav^en  ye  sing  before  Him, 

Glory  be  to  God  most  high !  " 

John  Cawood 


%  feto  more  Sear^  ^i^all  roll 


P'EW  more  years  shall  roll, 
A  few  more  seasons  come, 
And  we  shall  be  with  those  at  rest, 
Asleep  within  the  tomb  : 
Then,  O  my  Lord,  prepare 
My  soul  for  that  great  day  ; 
Oh,  wash  me  in  Thy  precious  Blood, 
And  take  my  sins  away  ! 

A  few  more  suns  shall  set 
O'er  these  dark  hills  of  time, 

And  we  shall  be  where  suns  are  not, 
A  far  serener  clime  : 
Then,  O  my  Lord,  prepare 
My  soul  for  that  blest  day ; 

Oh,  wash  me  in  Thy  precious  Blood, 
And  take  my  sins  away ! 

A  few  more  storms  shall  beat 
On  this  wild  rocky  shore, 
And  we  shall  be  where  tempests  cease, 
And  surges  swell  no  more  : 


31  feto  more  pearc  fii!)all  roll* 


Then,  O  my  Lord,  prepare 
My  soul  for  that  cahii  day ; 
Oh,  wash  me  in  Thy  precious  Blood, 
And  take  my  sins  away  ! 

A  few  more  struggles  here, 
A  few  more  partings  o'er, 

A  few  more  toils,  a  few  more  tears, 
And  we  shall  weep  no  more  : 
Then,  O  my  Lord,  prepare 
My  soul  for  that  bright  day ; 

Oh,  wash  me  in  Thy  precious  Blood, 
And  take  my  sins  away  ! 

'T  is  but  a  little  while 
And  He  shall  come  again, 

Who  died  that  we  might  live.  Who  lives 
That  we  with  Him  may  reign  : 
Then,  O  my  Lord,  prepare 
My  soul  for  that  glad  day ; 

Oh,  wash  me  in  Thy  precious  Blood, 
And  take  my  sins  away ! 

HORATIUS   BONAR. 
123 


%^  pant^  tJ)e  i^art  for  Cooling  J^trcamief. 


S  pants  the  hart  for  cooHng  streams, 
When  heated  in  the  chase, 
So  longs  my  soul,  O  God,  for  Thee 
And  Thy  refreshing  grace. 


For  Thee,  my  God,  the  living  God, 

My  thirsty  soul  doth  pine  ; 
Oh,  when  shall  I  behold  Thy  face. 

Thou  Majesty  divine? 

Why  restless,  why  cast  down,  my  soul  ? 

Trust  God,  who  will  employ 
His  aid  for  Thee,  and  change  these  sighs 

To  thankful  hymns  of  joy. 

God  of  my  strength,  how  long  shall  I, 

Like  one  forgotten,  mourn. 
Forlorn,  forsaken,  and  exposed 

To  my  oppressors'  scorn  ? 
124 


'liteiit 


X 


i^. 


Slfi!  pants  tf)e  Ipart  for  Coolinff  ^treame. 


My  heart  is  pierced  as  with  a  sword, 

While  thus  my  foes  upbraid  : 
"  Vain  boaster,  where  is  now  thy  God  ? 

And  where  His  promised  aid?  " 

Why  restless,  why  cast  down,  my  soul? 

Hope  still ;  and  thou  shalt  sing 
The  praise  of  Him  who  is  Thy  God, 

Thy  health's  eternal  spring. 

Tate  and  Brady,  1696. 


125 


(©  ^ott\tt  Dear,  S^em^alem 


MOTHER  dear,  Jerusalem  ! 
When  shall  I  come  to  thee  ? 
When  shall  my  sorrows  have  an  end? 
Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see  ? 

'  O  happy  harbor  of  God's  saints  ! 
O  sweet  and  pleasant  soil ! 
In  thee  no  sorrow  can  be  found, 
Nor  grief,  nor  care,  nor  toil. 

No  murky  cloud  o'ershadows  thee, 
Nor  gloom,  nor  darksome  night ; 

But  every  soul  shines  as  the  sun, 
For  God  himself  gives  light. 

O  my  sweet  home,  Jerusalem  ! 

Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see? 
The  King  that  sitteth  on  thy  throne 

In  His  felicity? 
126 


;|HotI)cr  tear,  JeruBialem ! 


Thy  gardens  and  thy  goodly  walks 

Continually  are  green, 
Where  grow  such  sweet  and  pleasant  flowers 

As  nowhere  else  are  seen. 

Right  through  the  streets,  with  pleasing  sound, 

The  Hving  waters  flow, 
And  on  the  banks,  on  either  side, 

The  trees  of  Hfe  do  grow. 

Those  trees  each  month  yield  ripened  fruit, 

Porevermore  they  spring, 
And  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 

To  thee  their  honors  bring. 

O  Mother  dear,  Jerusalem  ! 

When  shall  I  come  to  thee? 
When  shall  my  sorrows  have  an  end  ? 

Thy  joys  when  shall  I  see  ? 


127 


SDaton  jjurple^  alt  tlje  oKa^t  toitl)  %tQ\^t 

AWN  purples  all  the  east  with  light, 
Day  o'er  the  earth  is  gliding  bright, 
Morn's  sparkling  rays  their  course  begin,  — 
Farewell  to  darkness  and  to  sin ! 

Each  evil  dream  of  night,  depart ! 
Each  thought  of  guilt,  forsake  the  heart ! 
Let  every  ill  that  darkness  brought 
Beneath  its  shade,  now  come  to  naught ! 

So  that  last  morning,  dread  and  great, 
Which  we  with  trembling  hope  await. 
With  blesse'd  light  for  us  shall  glow, 
Who  chant  the  song  we  learnt  below. 

O  Father,  that  we  ask  be  done, 
Through  Jesus  Christ,  Thine  only  Son, 
Who,  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  Thee, 
Shall  live  and  reign  eternally ! 

St.  Ambrose  (Tr.  Neale). 


/7^/^^^" 
/f^-^ 


A 


m. 


^'1 


ii^i^ 


^ 


WEET  day,  so  cool,  so  calm,  so  bright, 
The  bridal  of  the  earth  and  sky, 
The  dew  shall  weep  thy  fall  to-night ; 
For  thou  must  die. 


Sweet  rose,  whose  hue,  angry  and  brave, 

Bids  the  rash  gazer  wipe  his  eye, 
Thy  root  is  ever  in  its  grave,  — 
And  thou  must  die. 

Sweet  spring,  full  of  sweet  days  and  roses, 

A  box  where  sweets  compacted  lie. 
My  music  shows  ye  have  your  closes, 
And  all  must  die. 

Only  a  sweet  and  virtuous  soul, 

Like  seasoned  timber,  never  gives  ; 
But,  though  the  whole  world  turn  to  coal, 
Then  chiefly  lives. 

George  Herbert. 
129 


HRIST  to  the  young  man  said :   "  Yet  one 
thing  more ; 
If  thou  wouldst  perfect  be, 
Sell  all  thou  hast  and  give  it  to  the  poor, 
And  come  and  follow  me  ! " 


Within  this  temple  Christ  again,  unseen. 
Those  sacred  words  hath  said, 

And  his  invisible  hands  to-day  have  been 
Laid  on  a  young  man's  head. 

And  evermore  beside  him  on  his  way 
The  unseen  Christ  shall  move, 

That  he  may  lean  upon  his  arm  and  say, 

"  Dost  Thou,  dear  Lord,  approve?  " 

130 


Beside  him  at  the  marriage  feast  shall  be, 

To  make  the  scene  more  fair ; 
Beside  him  in  the  dark  Gethsemane 

Of  pain  and  midnight  prayer. 

O  holy  trust !  O  endless  sense  of  rest ! 

Like  the  beloved  John 
To  lay  his  head  upon  the  Saviour's  breast, 

And  thus  to  journey  on ! 

H.  W.  Longfellow. 

(For  his  brother's  ordination). 


131 


/ 


%  ^un^2Dap  l^pmn, 

ORD  of  all  being  !  throned  afar, 

Thy  glory  flames  from  sun  and  star ; 
Centre  and  soul  of  every  sphere, 
Yet  to  each  loving  heart  how  near ! 


Sun  of  our  life,  thy  quickening  ray 
Sheds  on  our  path  the  glow  of  day  ; 
Star  of  our  hope,  thy  softened  light 
Cheers  the  long  watches  of  the  night. 

Our  midnight  is  thy  smile  withdrawn  ; 
Our  noontide  is  thy  gracious  dawn  ; 
Our  rainbow  arch  thy  mercy's  sign  ; 
All,  save  the  clouds  of  sin,  are  thine  ! 

Lord  of  all  life,  below,  above, 
Whose  light  is  truth,  whose  warmth  is  love, 
Before  thy  ever-blazing  throne 
We  ask  no  lustre  of  our  own. 
132 


"i«^ 


r" 


C\ 


91  ^un-^ap  K)pinn. 


Grant  us  thy  truth  to  make  us  free, 
And  kindhng  hearts  that  burn  for  thee, 
Till  all  thy  living  altars  claim 
One  holy  light,  one  heavenly  flame  ! 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 


^33 


i^pmn  of  €ru^t* 

LOVE  Divine,  that  stooped  to  share 

Our  sharpest  pang,  our  bitterest  tear, 
On  Thee  we  cast  each  earth-born  care, 
We  smile  at  pain  while  Thou  art  near ! 


Though  long  the  weary  way  we  tread. 
And  sorrow  crown  each  lingering  year, 

No  path  we  shun,  no  darkness  dread, 

Our  hearts  still  whispering,  Thou  art  near  ! 

When  drooping  pleasure  turns  to  grief, 
And  trembling  faith  is  changed  to  fear, 

The  murmuring  wind,  the  quivering  leaf, 
Shall  sofdy  tell  us.  Thou  art  near ! 

On  Thee  we  fling  our  burdening  woe, 

O  Love  Divine,  forever  dear, 
Content  to  suffer  while  we  know, 
Living  and  dying,  Thou  art  near ! 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 
134 


^/ 


€I)e  Crucifirion. 

UNLIGHT  upon  Judaea's  hills, 
And  on  the  waves  of  Galilee  ! 
On  Jordan's  stream,  and  on  the  rills 
That  feed  the  dead  and  sleeping  sea  ! 


Most  freshly  from  the  greenwood  springs 
The  light  breeze  on  its  scented  wings ; 
And  gayly  quiver  in  the  sun 
The  cedar  tops  of  Lebanon  ! 

A  few  more  hours,  —  a  change  hath  come  ! 

The  sky  is  dark  without  a  cloud  ! 
The  shouts  of  wrath  and  joy  are  dumb, 

And  proud  knees  unto  earth  are  bowed. 
A  change  is  on  the  hill  of  Death, 
The  helmed  watchers  pant  for  breath, 
And  turn  with  wild  and  maniac  eyes 
From  the  dark  scene  of  sacrifice  ! 

That  Sacrifice  !  —  the  death  of  Him,  — 
The  Christ  of  God,  the  Holy  One  1 

Well  may  the  conscious  Heaven  grow  dim, 
And  blacken  the  beholding  Sun. 


Cl)e  Crucifixion. 


The  wonted  light  hath  fled  away, 
Night  settles  on  the  middle  day, 
And  Earthquake  from  his  caverned  bed 
Is  waking  with  a  thrill  of  dread  ! 

The  dead  are  waking  underneath ! 

Their  prison  door  is  rent  away  ! 
And,  ghastly  with  the  seal  of  death, 

They  wander  in  the  eye  of  day  ! 
The  temple  of  the  Cherubim, 
The  House  of  God  is  cold  and  dim  ; 
A  curse  is  on  its  trembling  walls, 
Its  mighty  veil  asunder  falls  ! 

Well  may  the  cavern  depths  of  earth 

Be  shaken,  and  her  mountains  nod  ; 
Well  may  the  sheeted  dead  come  forth 

To  see  the  suffering  Son  of  God  ! 
Well  may  the  temple  shrine  grow  dim, 
And  shadows  veil  the  Cherubim, 
When  He,  the  chosen  One  of  Heaven, 
A  sacrifice  for  guilt  is  given ! 

And  shall  the  sinful  heart,  alone, 
Behold  unmoved  the  fearful  hour, 

When  Nature  trembled  on  her  throne, 
And  Death  resigned  his  iron  power  ? 
136 


QLht  CruciCjcion, 


Oh,  shall  the  heart  —  whose  sinfulness 
Gave  keenness  to  His  sore  distress, 
And  added  to  His  tears  of  blood  — 
Refuse  its  trembling  gratitude  ! 


John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 


^37 


from  oEbetp  ^tormp  Wintx  tl^at  25loto#. 


ROM  every  stormy  wind  that  blows, 
From  every  swelling  tide  of  woes, 
There  is  a  calm,  a  sure  retreat ; 
'Tis  found  beneath  the  mercy-seat. 


There  is  a  place  where  Jesus  sheds 
The  oil  of  gladness  on  our  heads,  — 
A  place  than  all  beside  more  sweet, 
It  is  the  bloodstained  mercy-seat. 

There  is  a  spot  where  spirits  blend, 
Where  friend  holds  fellowship  with  friend ; 
Though  sundered  far,  by  faith  they  meet 
Around  one  common  mercy-seat. 

There,  there,  on  eagles'  wings  we  soar, 
And  time  and  sense  seem  all  no  more ; 
And  heaven  comes  down,  our  souls  to  greet, 
And  glory  crowns  the  mercy-seat. 

Hugh  Stowell. 
138 


Cfte  ^on  of  oBoti  qot^  fottl)  to  Wat, 

HE  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war, 
A  kingly  crown  to  gain  : 
His  blood-red  banner  streams  afar, 
Who  follows  in  His  train  ! 
Who  best  can  drink  his  cup  of  woe, 

Triumphant  over  pain. 
Who  patient  bears  his  cross  below, 
He  follows  in  His  train. 

The  martyr  first,  whose  eagle  eye 

Could  pierce  beyond  the  grave, 
Who  saw  his  Master  in  the  sky, 

And  called  on  Him  to  save  : 
Like  Him,  with  pardon  on  his  tongue, 

In  midst  of  mortal  pain, 
He  prayed  for  them  that  did  the  wrong : 

Who  follows  in  his  train  ? 
139 


d)e  ^on  of  (0oti  goes;  forti)  to  5Mar. 

A  glorious  band,  the  chosen  few, 

On  whom  the  Spirit  came  : 
Twelve  valiant  saints,  their  hope  they  knew, 

And  mocked  the  cross  and  flame  : 
They  met  the  tyrant's  brandished  steel. 

The  lion's  gory  mane  ; 
They  bowed  their  necks  the  death  to  feel : 

Who  follows  in  their  train  ? 

A  noble  army,  men  and  boys. 

The  matron  and  the  maid. 
Around  the  Saviour's  throne  rejoice, 

In  robes  of  light  arrayed  : 
They  climbed  the  steep  ascent  of  heaven 

Through  peril,  toil,  and  pain  : 
O  God  !  to  us  may  grace  be  given 

To  follow  in  their  train  ! 

Reginald  Heber. 


14a 


#1),  J©Dr^t)ip  tl^e  Jiing. 


H,  worship  the  King, 
All  glorious  above  ! 
Oh,  gratefully  sing 

His  power  and  Plis  love. 
Our  Shield  and  Defender, 

The  Ancient  of  days, 
Pavilioned  in  splendor, 
And  girded  with  praise. 

Oh,  tell  of  His  might, 

Oh,  sing  of  His  grace, 
Whose  robe  is  the  light, 

Whose  canopy  space  ! 
His  chariots  of  wrath 

Deep  thunder-clouds  form 
And  dark  is  His  path 

On  the  wings  of  the  storm. 

The  earth,  with  its  store 

Of  wonders  untold, 
Almighty,  Thy  power 

Hath  founded  of  old,  — 
141 


(Bh  smocfibip  ti)c  mn. 


Hath  stablished  it  fast 
By  a  changeless  decree, 

And  round  it  hath  cast, 
Like  a  mantle,  the  sea. 

Thy  bountiful  care 

What  tongue  can  recite  ? 
It  breathes  in  the  air, 

It  shines  in  the  light ; 
It  streams  from  the  hills. 

It  descends  to  the  plain, 
And  sweetly  distils 

In  the  dew  and  the  rain. 

Frail  children  of  dust, 

And  feeble  as  frail, 
In  Thee  do  we  trust, 

Nor  find  Thee  to  fail ; 
Thy  mercies,  how  tender, 

How  firm  to  the  end, 
Our  Maker,  Defender, 

Redeemer,  and  Friend  ! 

O  measureless  might, 

Ineffable  Love  ! 
While  angels  delight 

To  hymn  Thee  above, 
142 


•     ^-^ 


i  ..-^ 


©f),  tSEurfibip  t\)t  Einff. 


The  ransomed  creation, 
Though  feeble  their  lays, 

With  true  adoration 

Shall  lisp  to  Thy  praise. 

Sir  Robert  Grant. 

143 


^Sfalm  121. 

P  to  those  bright  and  gladsome  hills, 
Whence  flows  my  weal  and  mirth, 
I  look  and  sigh  for  Him,  who  fills 
Unseen  both  heaven  and  earth. 


He  is  alone  my  help  and  hope. 
That  I  shall  not  be  moved  ; 

His  watchful  eye  is  ever  ope, 
And  guardeth  his  beloved. 

The  glorious  God  is  my  sole  stay, 
He  is  my  sun  and  shade ; 

The  cold  by  night,  the  heat  by  day, 
Neither  shall  me  invade. 

He  keeps  me  from  the  spite  of  foes, 
Doth  all  their  plots  control ; 

And  is  a  shield,  not  reckoning  those, 
Unto  my  very  soul. 
144 


^l 


\ 


ifXv 


.-  .■■■  f .      ■ 

.      ■^•5-:. 

H              ^■■^,^m:;^im^^U- 

^.•i^^--. 

^^M^^ 


*> 


\ 


l^salm   121. 


Whether  abroad,  amidst  the  crowd, 

Or  else  within  my  door, 
He  is  my  pillar  and  my  cloud. 

Now  and  forevermore. 

Henry  Vaughan. 


H5 


0*' 


a  !3i9isf)tp  f  ortte^^  i^  our  oBoti. 


MIGHTY  fortress  is  our  God, 
A  bulwark  never  failing ; 
Our  helper  He  amid  the  flood 
Of  mortal  ills  prevailing. 
For  still  our  ancient  foe 
Doth  seek  to  work  us  woe  ; 
His  craft  and  power  are  great ; 
And,  armed  with  cruel  hate, 
On  earth  is  not  his  equal. 

Did  we  in  our  own  strength  confide, 
Our  striving  would  be  losing ; 

Were  not  the  right  man  on  our  side,  - 
The  man  of  God's  own  choosing. 

Dost  ask  who  that  may  be  ? 

Christ  Jesus  :  it  is  he  ; 

Lord  Sabaoth  his  name, 

From  age  to  age  the  same, 
And  he  must  win  the  battle. 
146 


^  iHiffljtp  Jortrcfifi  ts  our  (Sou. 


And  though  this  world,  with  devils  filled, 

Should  threaten  to  undo  us. 
We  will  not  fear ;  for  God  hath  willed 

His  truth  to  triumph  through  us, 
The  Prince  of  Darkness  grim,  — 
We  tremble  not  for  him  : 
His  rage  we  can  endure, 
For,  lo  !  his  doom  is  sure  : 

One  little  word  shall  fell  him. 

That  word  above  all  earthly  powers  — 
No  thanks  to  them  —  abideth  ; 

The  spirit  and  the  gifts  are  ours. 
Through  Him  who  with  us  sideth. 

Let  goods  and  kindred  go. 

This  mortal  life  also  : 

The  body  they  may  kill, 

God's  truth  abideth  still ; 
His  kingdom  is  forever. 

Martin  Luther. 

(Tr.  F.  H.  Hedge.) 

147 


Wt^tw  SF^rael,  of  tl)e  EorD  fielobcti. 


HEN  Israel,  of  the  Lord  beloved, 

Out  of  the  land  of  bondage  came, 
Her  fathers'  God  before  her  moved. 
An  awful  guide,  in  smoke  and  flame. 
By  day,  along  the  astonished  lands 

The  cloudy  pillar  glided  slow ; 
By  night,  Arabia's  crimsoned  sands 
Returned  the  fiery  column's  glow. 

There  rose  the  choral  hymn  of  praise, 

And  trump  and  timbrel  answered  keen, 
And  Zion's  daughters  poured  their  lays. 

With  priest's  and  warrior's  voice  between. 
No  portents  now  our  foes  amaze, 

Forsaken  Israel  wanders  lone  ; 
Our  fathers  would  not  know  Thy  ways. 

And  Thou  hast  left  them  to  their  own. 


t 


Ni 


^^    /^?^ 


hp^. 


mi\)txi  !Jfiracl,  of  t|)c  LorU  bcIotjrU. 

But  present  still,  though  now  unseen, 

When  brightly  shines  the  prosperous  day, 
Be  thoughts  of  Thee  a  cloudy  screen 

To  temper  the  deceitful  ray. 
And  oh,  when  stoops  on  Judah's  path 

In  shade  and  storm  the  frequent  night, 
Be  Thou,  long-suffering,  slow  to  wrath, 

A  burning  and  a  shining  light ! 

Our  harps  we  left  by  Babel's  streams, 

The  tyrant's  jest,  the  Gentile's  scorn  ; 
No  censer  round  our  altar  beams, 

And  mute  our  timbrel,  trump,  and  horn. 
But  Thou  hast  said,  the  blood  of  goat, 

The  flesh  of  rams,  I  will  not  prize  ; 
A  contrite  heart,  an  humble  thought, 

Are  mine  accepted  sacrifice. 

Sir  Walter  Scott. 


149 


€ijc  Jiing  of  3tobe  mp  ^l)epl)ert!  i^. 


HE  King  of  love  my  Shepherd  is, 
Whose  goodness  faileth  never ; 
I  nothing  lack  if  I  am  His, 
And  He  is  mine  forever. 


Where  streams  of  living  water  flow 
My  ransomed  soul  He  leadeth, 

And,  where  the  verdant  pastures  grow, 
With  food  celestial  feedeth. 

Perverse  and  foolish,  oft  I  strayed, 
But  yet  in  love  He  sought  me, 

And  on  His  shoulder  gently  laid, 
And  home,  rejoicing,  brought  me. 

In  death's  dark  vale  I  fear  no  ill 
With  Thee,  dear  Lord,  beside  me ; 

Thy  rod  and  staff  my  comfort  still. 
Thy  Cross  before  to  guide  me. 

150 


CI)e  Joiner  of  ILotc  mp  ^I;cpl)cvti  is. 

Thou  spread'st  a  table  in  my  sight, 
Thy  unction  grace  bestoweth, 

And  oh  the  transport  of  dehght 
With  which  my  cup  o'erfloweth ! 

And  so,  through  all  the  length  of  days, 

Thy  goodness  faileth  never ; 
Good  Shepherd,  may  I  sing  Thy  praise 

Within  Thy  house  forever ! 

Sir  H.  W.  Baker 


151 


€afee  up  tJ)p  €tt}$^. 

HOU   say'st,    "Take  up  thy  cross, 
O  man,  and  follow  Me;" 
The  night  is  black,  the  feet  are  slack, 
Yet  we  would  follow  Thee. 


But,  O  dear  Lord,  we  cry. 

That  we  Thy  face  could  see  ! 
Thy  blessed  face  one  moment's  space,  — 

Then  might  we  follow  Thee  ! 

Dim  tracts  of  time  divide 

Those  golden  days  from  me ; 
Thy  voice  comes  strange  o'er  years  of  change ; 

How  can  we  follow  Thee? 

Comes  faint  and  far  Thy  voice 

From  vales  of  Galilee ; 
Thy  vision  fades  in  ancient  shades; 

How  should  we  follow  Thee? 

152 


Cake  up  tj)P  Cro60. 


O  heavy  cross  —  of  faith 

In  what  we  cannot  see  ! 
As  once  of  yore  Thyself  restore 

And  help  to  follow  Thee  ! 

If  not  as  once  Thou  cam'st 

In  true  humanity, 
Come  yet  as  guest  within,  the  breast 

That  burns  to  follow  Thee. 

Within  our  heart  of  hearts 

In  nearest  nearness  be ; 
Set  up  Thy  throne  within  Thine  own ; 

Go,  Lord  ;  we  follow  Thee.     Amen. 
F.  T.  Palgrave. 


153 


25epontr  tftat  fiountile^^  M>ta. 


EYOND,  beyond  that  boundless  sea, 
Above  that  dome  of  sky, 
Farther  than  thought  itself  can  flee, 
Thy  dwelling  is  on  high  : 
Yet  dear  the  awful   thought  to  me, 
That  Thou,  my  God,  art  nigh;  — 

Art  nigh,  and  yet  my  laboring  mind 

Feels  after  Thee  in  vain. 
Thee  in  these  works  of  power  to  find, 

Or  to  Thy  seat  attain. 
Thy  messenger,  the  stormy  wind ; 

Thy  path,  the  trackless  main : 

These  speak  of  Thee  with  loud  acclaim ; 

They  thunder  forth  Thy  praise. 
The  glorious  honor  of  Thy  name. 

The  wonders  of  Thy  ways  ; 
But  Thou  art  not  in  tempest  flame. 

Nor  in  the  noontide  blaze. 

154 


\ 


^cponti  tbat  i)ounUlc66  ^ca, 


We  hear  Thy  voice  when  thunders  roll 
Through  the  wide  fields  of  air; 

The  waves  obey  Thy  dread  control ; 
But  still,  Thou  art  not  there  : 

Where  shall  I  find  Him,  O  my  soul  ! 
Who  yet  is  everywhere? 

Oh  !  not  in  circling  depth  or  height, 

But  in  the  conscious  breast. 
Present  to  faith,  though  veiled  from  sight. 

There  doth  His  Spirit  rest : 
Oh,  come,  thou  Presence  infinite  ! 

And  make  Thy  creature  blest. 

Eustace  Conder. 


[55 


f  attjer,  3F  fenoto  tfjat  all  mp  life. 


'm^i 


ATHER,  I  know  that  all  my  life 
Is  portioned  out  for  me ; 
The  changes  that  will  surely  come, 
I  do  not  fear  to  see  : 
I  ask  Thee  for  a  present  mind, 
Intent  on  pleasing  Thee. 

I  ask  Thee  for  a  thoughtful  love, 
Through  constant  watching  wise, 

To  meet  the  glad  with  joyful  smiles, 
And  wipe  the  weeping  eyes ; 

A  heart  at  leisure  from  itself. 
To  soothe  and  sympathize. 

I  would  not  have  the  restless  will 

That  hurries  to  and  fro. 
That  seeks  for  some  great  thing  to  do, 

Or  secret  thing  to  know; 
I  would  be  treated  as  a  child, 

And  guided  where  I  go. 
156 


^5=S^ 


fat|)rr,  ^  fenoto  tljat  all  mp  life. 


Wherever  in  the  world  I  am, 

In  whatsoe'er  estate, 
I  have  a  fellowship  with  hearts 

To  keep  and  cultivate, 
A  work  of  lowly  love  to  do 

For  Him  on  whom  I  wait. 

I  ask  Thee  for  the  daily  strength, 

To  none  that  ask  denied, 
A  mind  to  blend  with  outward  life, 

While  keeping  at  Thy  side; 
Content  to  fill  a  little  space, 

If  Thou  be  glorified. 

And  if  some  things  I  do  not  ask 

Among  my  blessings  be, 
I  'd  have  my  spirit  filled  the  more 

With  grateful  love  to  Thee ; 
More  careful,  not  to  serve  Thee  much. 

But  please  Thee  perfecdy. 

A.  L.  Waring. 

157 


€xtp  of  oSoti,  ftoto  BtoatJ  anti  fat. 


m 


ITY  of  God,  how  broad  and   far 
Outspread  Thy  walls  sublime  ! 
The  true  Thy  chartered  freemen  are, 
Of  every  age  and  clime. 


One  holy  Church,  one  army  strong. 

One  steadfast  high  intent. 
One  working  band,  one  harvest  song, 

One  King  Omnipotent ! 

How  purely  hath  Thy  speech  come  down 

From  man's  primeval  youth  ! 
How  grandly  hath  Thine  empire  grown. 

Of  Freedom,  Love,  and  Truth  ! 

How  gleam  Thy  watch-fires  through  the  night 

With  never- fainting  ray  ! 
How  rise  Thy  towers,  serene  and  bright. 

To  meet  the  dawning  day  ! 

158 


CttP  of  (0oti,  I)oto  broatj  anU  far. 


In  vain  the   surges'  angry  shock, 

In  vain  the  drifting  sands ; 
Unharmed  upon  the  Eternal  Rock 

The   Eternal  City  stands.     Amen. 

Samuel  Johnson. 


159 


AY  of  Wrath,  —  that  Day  of  Days,  — 
When  earth  shall  vanish  in  a  blaze, 
As  David,  with  the  Sibyl,  says  ! 


What  a  trembling  will  come  o'er  us. 
When  the  Judge  shall  be  before  us, 
For  every  hidden  sin  to  score  us  ! 

The  trumpet  with  its  wondrous  sound. 
Piercing  each  sepulchral  mound, 
Shall  summon  all,  the  throne  around. 

Nature  and  death  will  stand  aghast, 
When  those  who  to  the  grave  have  past, 
Come  answering  to  the  judgment  blast ! 

The  written  Book  shall  be  unrolled, 
Wherein  the  deeds  of  all  are  told. 
And  shall  the  doom  of  all  unfold. 
1 60 


Vits  3ra>, 


For  when  the  Judge  shall  be  enthroned, 
No  secret  shall  be  left  unowned, 
No  crime  or  trespass  unatoned. 

Then  for  a  guilty  wretch  like  me, 
What  plea,  what  pleader,  will  there  be, 
When  scarcely  shall  the  just  go  free ! 

King  of  tremendous  majesty. 

Whose  grace  saves  all  who  sav^ed  may  be. 

Fountain  of  mercy,  oh  save  me  ! 

Forget  not  then,  dear  Son  of  God, 
For  my  sake  Thou  thy  way  hast  trod, 
Nor  let  me  sink  beneath  thy  rod. 

Yes,  me  to  save  Thou  sat'st  in  pain, 
Nor  didst  the  bitter  Cross  disdain,  — 
Let  not  such  anguish  be  in  vain  ! 

Unerring  Judge,  thy  wrath  restrain, 
And  let  my  sins  remission  gain. 
While  still  the  days  of  grace  remain. 
Id 


£)iefi!  Sfr^. 


I  groan  as  one  condemned  to  die, 
In  vain  to  hide  my  shame  I  try, 
Lord,  listen  to  my  supphant  cry  ! 

Thou  who  the  Magdalen  forgave, 
And  joy'd  the  dying  thief  to  save. 
Hast  given  me  hope  beyond  the  grave. 

All  my  prayers  are  empty  shows, 
But  let  thy  mercy  interpose, 
And  spare  me  from  eternal  woes. 

Among  the  sheep,  oh  let  me  stand, 
Far  from  the  goats'  accursed  band,  — 
And  taste  the  joys  of  thy  right  hand  ! 

While  the  guilty  are  appalled, 
And  to  endless  flames  inthralled. 
Oh  let  me  with  the  blest  be  called! 

Prostrate  at  thy  feet  I  lie. 
My  contrite  heart  as  ashes  dry, 
Care  for  me  when  the  end  draws  nigh ! 
162 


^ic6  3[rar. 


That,  that  will  be  a  day  of  gloom, 
When  man,  to  meet  his  final  doom. 
Shall  rise,  all-guilty,  from  the  grave,  — 
Spare  him,  God,  oh  spare  and  save  ! 

Tr.  Robert  C.  Winthrop. 


163 


Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Libraries 


1012  01210  8850 


^j  11    I,  illKPJiill 


